A/N: As this is already the third chapter, I'm going to presume everyone reading this has noticed both the rating (M), and the fact that this will be a slash story.
So there's no need for anymore warnings about slash, character death and violence, is there?
All comments, critique, hellos, hate-mail accepted and appreciated.
It had been three years since Narcissa had been healed from her illness, and not much had changed in Lucius' life. His family was still the most important factor in his life, preceded by nothing. The future of the Malfoy line, his son's future was what drove him to donate his money to different charities and make connections within the Ministry and amassing his fortune.
The recent deaths among Azkaban inmates caused by spoiled food somehow making it to the prisoners had benefited him in his goal. His wife's sister, Bellatrix Lestrange had died only hours after his husband, leaving her fortune to be divided between her sisters Andromeda and Narcissa, but Lucius was confident that he would eventually be able to claim if not all, then at least most of it.
Another Black fortune to be divided was that of Sirius Black, and Lucius was certain that he would be able to claim it all for his son. Narcissa had already waved all claims to it in favour of Draco, and he did not think Andromeda was at all interested in the main Black fortune.
Straightening his tie Lucius strolled inside the Ministry building and towards the office that the will reading was to be taking place. It was still quarter to eleven, so he had plenty of time.
"Mr Malfoy!" A young man with straw coloured hair and blemishes on his face wheezed as he came to a stop beside him. "I'm so glad I caught you before you could leave the atrium Mr Malfoy. The meeting has been moved to the level two."
"That's where the MLE office is," Lucius frowned. "Isn't that a little unorthodox?"
"Yes sir, but it's the only office available sir. There's been a flood in the legalities office."
Lucius sniffed at the ludicrousness of the Ministry, but nodded his head and gestured the boy to lead the way. He frowned when the boy simply stood in place. "I'm sorry sir but there's one more person we have to wait for. Other than him we've already got everyone there."
"And who is that?" Lucius asked, but received no answer as a fireplace flared green and a man he had almost hoped would never cross his path ever again stepped out of it.
"Mr Potter?" the boy yelled questioningly, and Lucius watched in disbelief as the man he had known as J, a thief and a mercenary lifted his hand in greeting and graced the boy with a cold smile.
"Mr Potter?" Lucius repeated, eyes wide. "This, is Hadrian Potter?"
"Ah, I see my reputation precedes me, Mr…?"
Lucius stared at the man, willing his mouth to stay closed and not to hang open at the man's gall. "Malfoy," he introduced himself and held out his hand. "But we have already met."
"Have we?" Potter smiled sharply, taking Lucius' hand and squeezing more tightly than was necessary. "I apologize, but I have no recollection of the incident."
"I might be mistaken," Lucius amended, having picked up on the threat.
"I'm quite certain you are," Potter revealed his teeth in an expression that could have been a smile or a snarl. "You see I have kept myself well away from the Wizarding world for the past decades."
"Gentlemen, if you'll follow me," the young clerk interrupted and gestured for them to head to the elevator, already filled with various Ministry personnel and people conducting their business in the building.
The elevator doors closed before them, shutting them inside a small space where Lucius was forced to press his side against Potter's. He chanced a glance at his side, but could glean nothing from the man's face. His green eyes were just as cold as they had been three years ago, his hair slightly longer perhaps and braided. The dark blue robes with decorative black sewing and silver buttons were a far cry from the dark and practical robes the man had worn in that dingy pub at Knockturn. The man was the same, if not slightly more intimidating now with the trimmings of his true station.
To think that Harry Potter's guardian was a man that could easily cast the darkest of the Unforgivables with familiarity that made it possible for him to do so silently and without any sign of exhaustion.
The elevator binged and announced they had arrived at level two, and the young man that had met them downstairs directed them through the sea of desks where men and women wearing the red robes of Aurors were standing and sitting. A few recognized Lucius and scowled at the man they felt had gotten away without paying for his crimes.
But despite Lucius and his dark reputation among the Aurors, it was the other man that gathered more attention, and the reactions that greeted him were much more interesting.
As far as Lucius knew Hadrian Potter was a recluse who had appeared out of nowhere seven years ago and claimed custody of his cousin, Harry Potter. He had claimed to have been wandering around the US as an amnesiac with no memory of his previous life, or even of the Wizarding World.
Yet it seemed the Aurors glanced at him cautiously, trying not to appear as if they were even aware of his presence. It could have been just simple curiosity towards a man that had so far lived in seclusion, but a few looks were far too cautious and knowing for Lucius to believe it. They were worried, perhaps even frightened. Because, or for him Lucius wasn't certain, but the feeling was there.
One man, dark skinned and bald took one look at Potter and his eyes went round. He hurried out of the room, and his exit did not go unnoticed by Potter who frowned after the man and then turned to their guide. "Is there a reason why the meeting is being held here?"
"Flooding in legalities," the young man, possibly a clerk in legalities answered, but his smile that had come so easily for Lucius seemed to falter before Potter's glare.
"Flooding?" Potter repeated with a dull tone. "Of course. And the reason for the meeting to be held here, in the midst of Aurors?"
"Because we happen to have an empty office for you, Mr Potter," a woman, perhaps thirty with a dazzling smile and Auror robes. "It's a very busy day for the Ministry today, what with Madam Umbridge's resignation."
"Ah, so the bitch is gone?" the vulgar words were made even worse by Potter's jovial tone and bright smile.
The woman graced him with a tight smile and narrowed eyes. "There is no need to be insulting, Mr Potter."
"The woman attempted to steel from my cousin," Potter answered with a frown just as severe. "She should be glad I didn't have her thrown in Azkaban."
The woman huffed and turned on her heels. A few Aurors glanced at her with sympathy, but most didn't bother to even look up.
"I apologize for her, Mr Potter, but family loyalties," another man with markings of a senior Auror in his robes stated with a tired sigh. "And it's not just Umbridge, but many Ministry employees were caught up in the mess in some way."
"So it's my fault that the ministry is corrupt?" Potter questioned with a sneer. "You cannot fault me for holding her and her co-conspirators accountable for their actions. They attempted to gain control of my cousin's property and declare me unfit to be his guardian, and in your opinion I should have just allowed without any kind of protest?"
"No of course not, that's not what I -" the man faltered in his attempts to placate Potter, and finally shook his head and nodded to the side. "Let me show you to the conference room Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy." He turned and headed down the corridor with the younger man that had met them in the atrium, leaving Lucius finally alone with Potter.
"The Ministry tried to cease control of your charge's assets?" Lucius asked, a tone of incredulity in his voice. It wasn't difficult to believe the Ministry would attempt to control The-Boy-Who-Lived in some way, but what surprised Lucius was that somehow Potter, who by all accounts was a recluse with no connections had managed to not only stop them, but also make sure everyone knew how foolish it would be for anyone to even try interfering in his matters.
"The whole story should be in The Prophet by tomorrow," Potter replied with a small smile.
"Here you are Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy," the senior Auror interrupted, opening a door. "I'll just leave you to it. Have a pleasant day."
Potter turned to look at the man walk away, and when he'd disappeared midst the crowd of Aurors, swirled around and flashed Lucius with a grim smile. "After you, Mr Malfoy," Potter tilted his head towards the room and Lucius, after inclining his head stepped inside.
The room held a rectangular table, and already seated around it was the representative from Gringotts, an unfamiliar goblin, and three wizards. From what Lucius had learned they were a Ministry official in charge of property records and legalities, a law expert and a member of the Wizengamot.
Who would inherit Black's estate was in the hands of these three men. The Gringotts goblin, Lucius and Potter had been called to share their opinion, but the decision would be made only if the Ministry employee, the law expert and the Wizengamot member all agreed on the beneficiary.
The Wizengamot member stood and gave a polite bow, followed closely by the other two men. The goblin remained seated, but gave a brief nod. "Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, I am Adrian Carson, a member of the Wizengamot, and these men," he gestured to his right to the brown haired, relatively young spectacled man, "are Martin Besigney our law expert, and," he gestured to his left at the grey haired, hunched man "Arnold Young, property official with the ministry, and Grognagn, the Gringotts representative. We are here to settle the matter of the Black estate and all the earthly possession left behind by one Mr Sirius Black."
Lucius and Potter moved to sit in their chairs across from the four on the other side, and the young clerk took a seat at the head of the table, to the right of them, and took up a piece of parchment and a quill and began taking notes of the meeting.
"Let us get started," Carson, the unofficial leader of the meeting began. "First I believe we should read Mr Black's will. Usually the matter should have been concluded as stated in the will, but Mr Black did not state a main beneficiary, and so the matter of his inheritance that he received after his incarceration to Azkaban prison remains undecided. According to previously received documents the remaining relatives of Sirius Black, her cousins Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy have renounced their right to the estate, so it is with us to decide which child, Mr Malfoy or Potter should inherit, as both seem to have equal claim to the estate."
"I contest," Potter announced. "As Mr Black's godchild my charge Harry Potter should be the main beneficiary."
"My wife, her sister and my son as the closest living relatives of Mr Black should be the main beneficiaries of Mr Black, no matter his sentimental ties to the Potter family," Lucius said, hardly able to contain his sneer when he was forced to publicly declare that he had familial ties to Andromeda Tonks, and thus to her mudblood-husband and half-blood progeny. "And as stated before, my wife has waved all claims to the Black estate in favour of our son, Draco Malfoy."
"Gentlemen, please," Carson interrupted before either of them could get any further. "Let us hear the will first."
The law expert, Besigney corrected the position of his glasses, cleared his throat and read aloud. "I, Sirius Black, of sound body and mind, here by state this to be my final will and testament. I leave the amount of three thousand and five hundred galleons and my cottage in Yorkshire, to my friend and comrade in arms, Remus Lupin. To my friend and comrade in arms, Peter Pettigrew, I leave the amount of three thousand and five hundred galleons. To my friend and comrade in arms, James Potter and his wife Lily Potter I leave the amount of five thousand galleons. To my godson, little Harry James Potter I leave the amount of one thousand galleons to be placed in a trust and handed to him at the time of his maturity, along with my motorcycle." Besigney placed the parchment on the table and lifted his eyes from the writing.
"That was all of Sirius Black's possessions at the time of his arrest and incarceration, and all have been divided as stated, with the modifications related to the inheritance of Peter Pettigrew that was re-directed to his closest living relative, and the amount left to James Potter that has been re-directed to his son, one Harry James Potter. There was no mention of Andromeda Tonks nee Black, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, or Draco Malfoy in the will."
"I think it's clear then," Potter said and spread his hands and looked at Lucius with a falsely apologetic smile. "It's all Harry's."
"It's not quite so simple, Mr Potter," the property official, Young stated. "Old families have certain conditions on who can inherit, and they place enchantments on their properties that ensure those conditions have been met. The elf, for example will not take orders from anyone but their rightful master."
"Would it not then make sense to simply call for the elf and see whose orders it will follow?" Potter asked, and the way he stated it roused Lucius' suspicion.
"You've already spoken to it," he accused Potter who flashed him one of his smiles that was the same infuriating mix of pleased and mocking Lucius remembered.
"It appeared," Hadrian answered. "Right after Mr Black passed away, I believe, and introduced itself."
Lucius growled and fisted his hands. He turned to the law expert and after twisting his face into a more genial expression instead of furious rage, asked "That settles the property matter, but not the vaults or the holdings, isn't that correct?"
Besigney shook his head, and Lucius swallowed down the growl threatening to escape from his mouth. "No, the money and the holdings are tied down to the main property. If the elf has indeed identified Mr Potter as his owner, then all other assets belong to him as well."
"Just one thing," Carson interrupted. "If Harry Potter is the beneficiary, why would the elf follow Hadrian Potter's orders?"
"Because Harry Potter is a minor," Besigney said. "And Mr Potter is his guardian."
"You could have saved us the trouble of this meeting had you mentioned the elf earlier," Lucius told Potter with a sneer.
"No, they would have demanded a meeting any case," Potter replied and gestured towards the goblin, who flashed them all with sharp toothed grin.
"Quite right Mr Potter. For this to be concluded in a manner that Gringotts accepts all participants should appear and hear the evidence so as there not to be any trouble later." The goblin's grin turned nasty as he looked at Lucius. "We advised Mr Potter to remain silent on the matter of the elf. We were aware of Mr Malfoys claim to the fortune in favour of his son, and should the matter not be dealt with officially it could have caused trouble for our client in the future, and complications for Gringotts. And Gringotts does not look favourably on complications."
Lucius drew in a long suffering breath and waited for the inevitable. The Black fortune would go to Potter, and he was only here as a witness.
"Very well, if you will call the elf, Mr Potter," Carson announced.
"Certainly," Potter nodded, and then bellowed. "Kreacher!"
An elf, far uglier and older than any Lucius had ever seen appeared on the table, hunched as if it were carrying a large weight on its shoulders, with a dirty and greyed pillowcase wrapped around it. "Master called for Kreacher," the creature scowled, twisting the dirtied linen between its long, knobbly fingers.
"Yes Kreacher, thank you," Potter said. "These men just need you to tell them who you belong to."
The elf looked at Potter with wide eyes, twisted mouth and practically snarled. "Kreacher belongs to master Potter, owner of the Black manor, master."
There was something terrifying in Potter's smile, and the elf shivered and bowed its head, but did not begun to grovel and beg like all others of its kind would have done. "You can go now, Kreacher," Potter spoke softly and tapped his fingers against the table in a peculiar pattern that for some reason drew in the elf's eyes, and what looked like terror appeared on its face.
"Yes master Potter, Kreacher will leave master until Kreacher is called," the elf bowed to Potter and disappeared with a small pop.
"Well," Besigney gave a dry cough and fiddled with his glasses. "It certainly has character."
"If all are in accordance," Carson asked, glancing at Besigney and Young who both nodded. "I declare the Black estate to be the property of the minor Harry James Potter, controlled by his cousin and guardian Hadrian Jordan Potter until the minor reaches maturity." Carson cleared his throat and stood. "I'd like to thank all for participating in this meeting, the Gringotts representative," he nodded to the goblin. "Mr Besigney, Mr Young, Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter."
Lucius stood, as did Potter and everyone else in the room. The goblin simply grunted and left without a backwards glance. Carson smiled and nodded towards the clerk. "There are a few things you need to sign Mr Potter, but I believe that is all."
"Thank you all for your time and trouble gentlemen," Potter said, and held out his hand for Lucius. "Terrible sorry you had to come all this way for nothing Mr Malfoy."
Lucius took the hand and shook it with a wry grin. "Oh, I believe I gleaned something from this meeting, Mr Potter. Good day." He nodded his head and stepped out of the conference room, leaving Potter to deal with the legalities. The last image he had of the room before he closed the door was Potter's by now familiar tight lipped smile.
Instead of leaving the building Lucius headed towards the records office where he asked for their file on Hadrian Potter. Normally this would have been impossible, but the Ministry was ripe with corruption down to its lowest levels, and Lucius knew just the people he needed to pay to get his hands on Potter's file.
It was suspiciously thin, and there were only a few papers inside it, all of them tied to the man's guardianship of Harry Potter. Nothing of the man himself; what his test scores had been, about his occupation or his current or former address. "Is this all?" he asked the witch who nodded.
Scoffing Lucius thrust the file back to the woman and headed towards the lift and the lobby where he would floo home to the manor and drown his misery with liquor.
He arrived at the atrium just in time to witness a confrontation between two people he had never thought would meet. Though it was not unthinkable for Dumbledore to be familiar with Harry Potter's guardian, it was strange to see him standing before the man Lucius knew was a cold blooded murderer, and smile jovially. Then again, Dumbledore would probably present that same face to the Dark Lord.
Not interested in getting caught between them Lucius kept his distance, but inched close enough among the crowd that was gathering in the lobby to be able to hear them speak. From the looks of things they had not been standing here long, and despite the easy manner in which Potter stood, it was obvious he was annoyed by the tight press of his lips and narrowed eyes.
Potter's legs were spread apart, and the fingers of his right hand kept flexing as if he was prepared to summon his wand at any moment. The way he stood and looked was a perfect example of a man preparing for a duel. Even his formal dark blue robes, elegantly cut to display his wealth and station seemed fitted for battle. His cloak had been tossed over his shoulders and it hung on his back so as not to hinder his movements.
As a contrast Dumbledore with his light blue robes decorated with yellow flowers and green butterflies, flowing beard and half-moon spectacles and gentle smile was like an elderly man greeting his favourite grandson. That is if you discounted the small strain on his smile, and the unusual tenseness in his shoulders.
"Mr Potter," Dumbledore declared, nearly grinning. "You are a hard man to get hold of."
"I do try," Potter answered from between clenched teeth.
"I have been attempting to contact you for several years now, but alas, all my attempts have failed. Yet here you are, and here I am. What a wonderful opportunity this is to take a moment and sit down for nice cup of tea, don't you think?" Dumbledore's smile was beaming, and his eyes twinkled so brightly Lucius felt the ridiculous urge to shield his eyes.
"I'm afraid I've had my fill of tea for the day, Mr Dumbledore," Potter replied, his stance still hostile. "I'll have to decline."
"Nonsense my boy, we all have room for one more cup of tea. And do call me Albus," Dumbledore declared, his smile still brilliant.
"But unfortunately I have a previous engagement," Potter's smile gained an edge, and his eyes scanned through the crowd and stopped at Lucius, who began hoping he'd had sense to flee when it was still a possibility. Yet when Potter walked towards him with a purpose, Lucius forced a welcoming smile on his face. "Lucius and I have plans," Potter declared as if it were not the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"I… see," something in Dumbledore's joy dimmed, and his eyes became sharp.
"Yes, we have much in common, after all," the man continued, seemingly unaware just what he was insinuating. Declaring yourself similar to a Death Eater was not something you did in front of Dumbledore, even in jest. "Our boys are the same age, after all," Potter grinned in that infuriating manner of his, but at least this time it wasn't directed at Lucius. "Starting Hogwarts, preparing to take on the Wizarding world."
Deciding to play along for now, if it would get him out of the atrium sooner, Lucius inclined his head. "And we shall be late if do not hurry."
Side by side they stepped past Dumbledore and headed towards one of the fireplaces where Potter gathered some floo powder in his hand. "And now?" Lucius asked with a raised eyebrow, expecting Potter to suggest they go their separate ways.
"We might as well have dinner," Potter grinned crookedly at him. "The Leaky fine with you?"
Lucius wanted to say no, but something about the gleam in Potter's eyes made him nod instead. His reward was a widened grin that did nothing to ease the twinge of worry Lucius was beginning to feel.
"If you want, consider this payment," Potter said. "I never did name a price for your wife's life."
Had there ever been any doubt of the identity of the man that had delivered the Dirham shards to Lucius' house elf, they were now all dispelled. And even though Lucius knew he should have been furious about the flippant way this man was forcing himself into his life, he couldn't help but feel a little flattered.
It was foolish and beyond idiotic, but he hadn't had this much interest in finding out what happened next since he'd served the Dark Lord. There was something to be said about the company of powerful, and perhaps insane men. "You're either too scared or shocked to be bored," Lucius muttered one possible explanation out loud before following Potter to the green flames.
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Potter had gotten them a private room in the inn, and ordered wine along with the meal.
The familiarity in which he greeted Tom, the owner of the Leaky, and waved to a few patrons discredited the rumours that he had lived as a hermit. Potter was obviously a regular costumer of the inn, and familiar with the respectable part of the Alleys, as well as the darker side of it.
"You're quite popular for someone with the reputation of a recluse," Lucius told him once they were secluded in their room with steaks and potatoes before them.
"I only go out of my way to avoid certain people," Potter told him, cutting into his meat. "Which include a certain nosy Headmaster."
"Not that I blame you," Lucius picked up his glass but did not drink from it. "Dumbledore can be infuriating. But is there a particular reason for your hostility towards him?"
Potter chewed and swallowed, and then took a sip from his wine before answering. "Dumbledore has taken upon himself to dictate fate," Potter replied, not lifting his eyes from the red wine. "He believes he was chosen for it, to control events, guide people and their choices."
"And you don't agree with that?"
Potter grinned and leaned back, brought the wine to his lips and gazed at Lucius from above the rim of his glass. "I'm a great believer in free choice. Let people make their own choices, even if those choices lead them to tie the noose in which to hang themselves."
Potter was laughing again, Lucius was certain of it. Yet for the first time it felt like the joke was not on Lucius, but on everyone else, and it felt good to be standing on the same side as Potter.
"It is strange," Lucius let his finger trail along the brim of his glass. "To have Harry Potter's guardian at odds with Albus Dumbledore. Considering history, I would have imagined you to be allies, not adversaries."
"One should not let the past dictate the present," Potter laughed. "And if that were something I lived by, I would have forgiven Dumbledore for all his discretions. Yet I find that I cannot. But I am willing to let him be, as long as he does not interfere in my matters."
"It does not seem like he agrees with you." Lucius returned to cutting his meat. "I cannot imagine Dumbledore would allow your cousin to live his life without his influence."
"He has had no choice in the matter," Potter tapped the table top, and Lucius was reminded of the scene with the elf earlier. He wondered if the tapping was not a nervous habit indicating the level of agitation Potter experienced. The elf's reaction to it seemed to confirm it. "But Harry will soon be of age to begin at Hogwarts, and should he attend he will be under the influence of the Headmaster, and that is not something I am willing to accept lightly."
"There are other schools," Lucius suggested.
"Harry wants to go to Hogwarts," Potter replied as if the boy's desire was the law, and Lucius couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him. "Yes, I know, I spoil the boy." Potter answered, with an easy smile. "I have no excuse, other than that it is unlikely I will ever have children of my own."
"You have no desire to marry?" Lucius asked.
"No, nor the inclination," Potter replied, tilting his head. "But that should not come as a surprise to you."
Suddenly the angle in which Potter's head was tilted made the smile on his lips appear softer and inviting, the room felt too small and the wine too strong. Every word and movement the other man had made from the moment they had met was cast in a different light, and the meaning behind some of them changed drastically.
Lucius felt trapped, and it was only made worse by Potter's laughter. Even it had changed from a simple sound to a sensation that flowed through Lucius and caused him to shiver. "Do not look so frightened," Potter said, keeping his voice light. "I honestly thought you had realised," he frowned. "Do not worry. I have no intention of approaching the matter with you." There was a hint of disappointment in the man's voice, and for some reason that disappointment brightened Lucius' mood, made him heady with excitement, and that is what he blamed his next words on.
"Why not?"
The words seemed to run through Potter like a shockwave, and his eyes narrowed on Lucius with unnerving precision. "We've been here before," Potter said and stood. "And I warned you then," he circled the table, keeping Lucius pinned down with his eyes. "I'll not do so again."
Potter's smile was just as slow as the movement of his hand as he reached out and grasped hold of Lucius' chin. He looked pleased, more than he had right to be in Lucius' opinion. "You keep that expression on your face, and I'm going to think you didn't have this planned all along," Lucius drawled out and stood, almost pressing himself against the other man, forcing Potter to slide his arm across Lucius' shoulder and tilt his head up so they could still maintain eye contact. It was odd that Lucius only now noticed that Potter was shorter than him.
"I didn't," Potter answered, leaning back over the table, reached behind him and picked up Lucius' glass. "But I can't say that I'm displeased." He took a sip of Lucius' wine, lounging against the table with confidence seemingly born of nothing but arrogance.
Lucius took the glass from his fingers and placed it back on the table, far enough so Potter couldn't reach it. He then placed his arms on both side of Potter and leaned closer. Potter leaned back, further away from Lucius' approaching mouth until he was almost lying on top of the table.
Lucius curved his arm around Potter's waist, pulled the man up and pressed his mouth against his neck. To his aggravation, Lucius found that Potter's heart beat steadily, and far too slowly, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in the situation.
Suddenly the pulse under Lucius' tongue peaked and he was flipped over, his wrists imprisoned by Potter's hands, the other man straddling him. Potter's feral grin was sharp as the edge of a knife, but instead of frightening him, it only made Lucius feel smug.
And just when he thought things were going to get interesting, Potter stiffened and his eyes glazed over, as if something had just occurred to him. His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer and he muttered, "Damn."
Potter released him and stepped back, his attention already on something other than the room they were in, or on Lucius. "I'm going to have to go," Potter informed him in a dull tone.
Furious that the man would simply disregard him so easily, Lucius grabbed hold of Potter's arm, tugged him close and practically snarled, "You think you can just leave?"
Potter grinned without any humour, and pulled his arm free. "Yes," he snapped sharply. "But don't think this is over, or that I even want to go. It's just that some things… are more important." With that Potter strode out, leaving Lucius just as frustrated as the last time he'd watched the man leave a room. Though this time, the reason for his frustration was completely different.
His irritation was only heightened once he realized Potter had left without paying.
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Hadrian appeared near the Weasley family home, his hair tugged firmly to the folds of his dark cloak that now covered every inch of him, hiding the expensive robes and everything else that could have given away his identity.
He crouched low behind a bush and settled on waiting. The wards he had set around the property had alerted him that Pettigrew was finally making his move and leaving the relative safety of the Weasley home. It was likely that the news of the Azkaban deaths had spurred this reaction.
The demise of the Death Eaters had been planned, but Sirius Black's death was an unfortunate occurrence that, if he could have, he would have avoided. And that is why he was determined to catch Pettigrew. It wouldn't make up for the loss of life, but it would be something to have the man declared innocent.
It should have frightened him that he wasn't concerned about being responsible for Black's death, yet he couldn't muster the effort it would require for him to feel pangs of guilt. He had sacrificed much, and part of the price had been some of his humanity. He could still enjoy and gain pleasure from some things, but his guilt and compassion were now tempered and held back by cold calculation and logic.
He was pulled from his musings by a rustling in another nearby bush, and soon a rat scurried out in to the open. The rodent stopped, its whickers quivered as it turned its small head from side to side to make sure it was alone, and finally it transformed into a twitching and trembling bald man with hunched shoulders.
Silently Hadrian stepped from behind the shelter of the bush and before Pettigrew could even turn he had fired a silent stunner at his back.
Hadrian walked over to the unconscious man and kicked him to the side none too gently. He scoffed and folded his arms. This was why he had left Lucius? The rat could have at least put up a fight.
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The Ministry of Magic's atrium was quiet in the early hours of the evening, when the Ministry had just closed. The only thing moving was the security guard who was attempting to stave of boredom by juggling three conjured yellow rubber balls.
He wasn't having much success so far. Doing things the muggle way was hard. A few spells and the balls would have been doing loopholes in the air, but to try and keep them airborne with no magic? It was a lot more difficult than his eight-year old made it seem.
A flash of light in the middle of the atrium, just in front of the fountain made the guard drop the balls and turn on his heels, his wand pointed at the disturbance.
The yellow rubber balls bumped and rolled away, one of them even hitting him on the leg, but the guard paid them no mind. He was far more interested in the small cage that contained a rat. Cautiously he inched closer to the cage and cast a few detection charms on the cage. He hummed when one of the results came back and informed him there was an animagus ward on the cage.
"Huh," he breathed. "So not a rat after all."
Leaving the cage where it was, the guard headed to his desk from where he could send a message to the Hit-Wizards that were working the nightshift. Somehow a rat being delivered to the Ministry in an animagus cage seemed like the sort of thing they should handle.
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Lucius spread the Daily Prophet open on the breakfast table and when he read the headline was glad that there was nothing in his mouth at the time. "Pettigrew's alive," Lucius spoke aloud to his wife and child.
"Who, darling?" Narcissa asked, momentarily distracted from her attempts to coax Draco into drinking milk, which the boy took advantage of by handing the glass to the house elf.
"The Potters' secret keeper, apparently. It seems Black was innocent." At the bottom right corner of the paper he noticed the promised article about a scandal in the ministry concerning The-Boy-Who-Lived and his guardian. "I always thought it a tad suspicious that your cousin would betray his friends."
"To be proven innocent just after he has been killed," Narcissa mused. "How tragic."
"How convenient," Lucius added his own musings, remembering Potter's sudden departure last night, and then chuckled in delight as the more in-depth article revealed a far more interesting detail. "He's been living as a rat under Weasley's nose this whole time! It'll be a miracle if Weasley doesn't get at least demoted for this."
"A rat?" Narcissa questioned, her nose scrunching in disgust. "Why on earth for?"
"He's an animagus. So was Black apparently."
"Hmm," Narcissa hummed. "It seems the Marauders are down to one."
Lucius raised an eyebrow at the name. He remembered Snape cursing about Potter and his friends, yet he had never thought his wife would have paid attention to such childishness. From what he remembered, they had been a ruthless gang, not really caring who they targeted in their pranks, and Black had been Narcissa's cousin. It was to be expected that she would be well informed of his actions, no matter how demeaning for the family.
"It was a shame about Regulus," Narcissa lamented. "He was such a bright boy, much more suited to carry on the Black name than Sirius."
"Not bright enough to protect himself from the Dark Lord," Lucius snapped, irritated at Narcissa's sudden desire to dig up old ghosts.
"And to think that the Black name will be forgotten, and the estate in the hands of a half-blood," Narcissa continued and Lucius staved off his desire to utter a suffering groan. "Not much better than a blood traitor!"
"Narcissa, please," Lucius pleaded, but his voice was laced with ice. "You want someone to blame, blame your Aunt Walburga for not making a will. This wouldn't have been a problem if she'd named Draco as the heir."
"You know it wasn't Aunt Walburga's fault," Narcissa almost shrieked. "She had no control over who inherited, it was all controlled by Uncle Orion. It was in the marriage contract. Besides, the Blacks are an old family, they would have never accepted an heir not sired by a Black."
"Well they accepted Potter," Lucius muttered.
"They did, didn't they," Narcissa murmured, seemingly distracted by this oddity. Eventually she shrugged. "Well no matter. Kreacher was a horrible creature even when I was a child, and I doubt he's improved. And the state of Grimmauld place…" she shook her head. "We're better off, in the end."
Lucius snorted. A fortune, millions, billions of galleons, and they were better off?
He looked over the table at his son who graced his father with a cocky smirk, almost a mirror of his own. "Drink your milk, son," Lucius, grabbed with a sudden vindictiveness, said. If he could not read his morning paper in relative peace, he could at least gain some entertainment this morning.
Just as Draco was about open his mouth and no doubt lie about already drinking his milk, a full glass appeared at his elbow. Lucius raised his eyebrow and Draco scowled.
You did not say no to a Malfoy, even if you were a Malfoy.
As he relished in his milk flavoured victory over his son, Lucius' thoughts were brought back to last night, and Potter. There was no doubt in his mind that his sudden departure was connected with today's headline. It was too big of a coincidence for Potter's time of departure and the time of Pettigrew's capture to coincide so closely together. According to the Prophet, Pettigrew had left the Weasley house at almost exactly the same time as Potter had fled from the inn. So, wards around the property that informed Potter when specific people crossed them?
Yet the question of how Potter had known about Pettigrew remained. Even Lucius had not known of him, and he had been one of the Dark Lord's most trusted.
The only other explanation was that somehow Potter had gained access to Black while he was in prison and had heard his story. But how had he captured Pettigrew, known where he had been hiding?
It could have been pure chance, but somehow Lucius doubted it. With Black dead there was no way to know. In fact Potter gained much from Black's death. It wouldn't be hard for a wizard of Potter's skill to poison the food deliveries to Azkaban, or place one of the guards under Imperius. The other deaths might have been nothing more but mere diversions.
But what was Potter's motivation besides gaining the Black fortune? There had to be more, if he really was behind Pettigrew's capture.
Lucius folded the newspaper and considered the possibility that he was nothing more than another pawn in Potter's game. The man's speech of free will had felt sincere, but didn't necessarily mean anything. He could just be a very convincing liar.
The thought of being used by Potter left a bitter taste in his mouth. If Potter was playing him he needed to be more careful. He'd made it easy, too easy for the man. Folding down after one attempt at seduction, and not even a very artful one at that. Potter had only needed to crook his finger and Lucius had keeled over with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.