Draco walked over to the sideboard, while Lucius glared at him.
"And just what in Merlin's name were you doing there, if I might be so bold as to ask?" the older wizard said. "Village fête? White elephants on my lawn? Tombola stalls? And what is Tombola?"
"Licenced gambling, Father. But you missed the main point."
"Which is?"
"I just arranged to have a team of labourers plus a trained gardener spend ten weeks working on the grounds without having to outlay a Knut. The only thing we have to do in return is to let her hold her silly Fête."
"With elephants."
Draco poured himself a small Firewhiskey, and a slightly larger one for his father. "It's just an expression for something that's worthless to the seller. Bric-a-brac. We could donate some of those old vases in the back room."
"Whiteelephants?"
"I'll explain another day. But Father?"
Lucius sipped his whiskey and waved his hand at Draco to continue.
"You need to be careful."
"I need to?"
"Didn't you see her face when she found out you were single?"
"Oh. That. Yes." At that, Lucius drained his glass and held it out for a refill. "Remind me never to get caught alone with her. Now I know how Nagini's prey felt as she approached." He shuddered, and Draco made certain the glass was filled to the brim before returning it.
"It shouldn't be too hard. I'll work out a rough layout, and we'll invite her back to afternoon tea next week and make sure we're clear on what goes where and when. And I've made it clear we have no available help, so she'll have to find lackeys to do all the manual labour. But you will have to do some work too."
"Oh?"
Draco laughed. "You'll probably have to declare the fête open, give the prize for the biggest cucumber and the prettiest goldfish, and walk around the entire place being recognised as Lord of the Manor, with all the appreciation that comes with that onerous duty. You'll be asked to test the butter cakes and throw wet sponges at the vicar. And everyone will say how wonderful it is for you to give your time, money and effort, when all you will have done is to stand there and look aristocratic."
Lucius sauntered over to the mirror and preened, then turned back to his son. "Did I ever mention how resourceful you've become? I think I can manage all of that, if you're willing to deal with that woman."
"We had better stipulate that there's no access to the Manor. Otherwise we'll have every man and his dog wanting to use the lavatory and falling into the dungeon instead."
"Dog? That reminds me – where are those two?" Lucius headed for the door, but at that moment the wolfhounds ran in past him, and settled themselves beside the fire. This might not have been noteworthy, but the quantity of mud tracked in by the beasts once more showed the decrepit nature of the garden. Doubtless there was once more a mud hole beside the pond that was of a size to accommodate two overheated extra-large dogs. Lucius shook his head, then looked towards the table where his cup of tea now sat cold and uninviting. Beside it, an empty plate was coated in a thin but unmistakable layer of drool.
"Bugger."
Three weeks later, things were definitely looking better. The squad of unemployed youth who had been coerced into doing the garden work under false pretences had already cleared the brambles beside the house, removed the donkey rhubarb from around the pond and had made excellent inroads into the Conservatory. Draco had supervised the first tentative excursions into that area, and a few quiet Unforgivables onto the most sentient of the plants had at least meant that the number of garden workers that went home that night matched the number who had gone in that morning. Finally the loose shingles on the Conservatory roof had been nailed down, and only one of the trainees had fallen off in the process (into a Hydrangea which was still looking rather battered).
Lucius suggested letting Mrs Fullaghar inspect the Conservatory before it had been tamed, but Draco managed to dissuade him on the basis that while her body would make excellent compost, they would have to deal with her clothes. Once more Lucius allowed that his son had sense, and forbore from taking the obnoxious woman into the hothouse until the worst of the man-eating plants had been eradicated.
Mrs Fullaghar came up to the house every Saturday to liaise with Draco on the logistics of the fête. William the White Fluffy Blob ran off to play in the garden, and his owner waddled along the hallway and settled herself in the old armchair while Draco brought over the folder he had created for the event. As he confided to his father later, the legal firm he was working with had had a stationery clear-out, and more than a few of the older leather binders had made their way to Malfoy Manor, where they had come in handy for organising all sorts of interesting papers. Even Lucius's writings were now neatly bound and filed, filling one of the library shelves in a very satisfying manner.
Lucius himself had decided that the less he saw of Mrs "I'll hint as much as possible that I'm also single" Fullaghar the better, and made it his new habit to take a walk down to the village, leaving just after she had disappeared into the Manor. He had regained much of his strength now, although he still limped a little when he was tired. He had also become quite fond of the little hamlet that had probably been established when the Manor was first built. Certainly the records he had found in a back room indicated that more than a few Muggles had provided services to the Manor in the early days, before the Malfoys had obtained their first House Elves.
On this particular Saturday, four weeks before the Fête, Lucius strolled down the main road of the small village, past the Dancing Bear and into the Lonely Dane. Unlike the Bear, this one boasted a small yet elegant lounge, and a rather pleasant beer garden with a view over the river, luckily upstream of the sewerage works. Lucius stopped at the bar long enough to order a glass of their best ale and a ploughman's lunch (with cheese made on the premises – he was starting to appreciate these Muggle abilities), then headed through to the garden and a favourite seat beside a wall covered in sweet peas. He sat back and allowed the drone of the bees to calm him, forgetting as well as he could the stress that rose from just seeing that woman.
A few moments later Ted the barman bustled out, carrying a cold glass that was beading up in a most enticing manner. "Good seeing you again, Mr Malfoy. We've a nice summer pudding thanks to the early raspberries, if you're interested." He set the luncheon plate down and then gathered some glasses from another table.
Lucius devoured the lunch – while both he and Draco had expanded their cooking repertoire over the past year, it was still bachelor cooking, and often bereft of fresh vegetables and light salads. As the barman cleared his plate, Lucius ordered a second glass of ale and spent the next little while watching a nearby kitten trying to catch the end of a tendril of jasmine that was dangling off the wall.
