"But his lawyer's claiming Lucius Malfoy was under the Imperius curse throughout it all!" half-heartedly protested Millicent out loud to herself, as she continued to read through the diary laid out on her desk.
This brought forth two absolutely identical snorts of sheer cynicism from across the desk, which in turn caused the Minister for Magic to raise her head and gaze in puzzlement at where Arcturus and Pollux Black were exchanging very scathing glances. The former wizard spoke first, "I was in a cellar at the outskirts of Calais just after the French surrender, Pollux. Where was the first time for you?"
"A nice little gasthaus in Munich," answered his cousin. Going on with a supremely evil glint in his eye, Pollux further reminisced, "It was really a shame to have to burn it down afterwards, but considering it was full of stunned Gestapo bastards, I didn't mind all that much."
Millicent nervously cleared her throat to attract the notice of the bloodthirsty old men in her office. Turning to face her, Arcturus Black affably informed the wary witch, "Madam Minister, as you've just heard, we both underwent the Imperius and also cast it during Grindlewald's war, so that Unforgivable is quite familiar to us. Which only makes Malfoy's defense even more ridiculous. It's like trying to get out of a charge of public drunkenness by saying you're so sensitive to alcohol that someone opening a bottle of wine at the other end of a room will instantly turn you blotto, all without it being in any way your fault. Concerning the Imperius, it's true for most wizards that the spell is virtually impossible to fight off and regain control of yourself. It can be done, mind you, but it takes a very uncommon wizard to succeed in this." After saying this last sentence, Arcturus smirked with quiet satisfaction.
Rolling his eyes in resigned exasperation, Pollux Black joined in the conversation, as Millicent switched her attention to him. "After being cast and whatever action you want has been done, the Imperius will eventually wear off. The only way for it to be a long-term curse is to continually cast it upon your victim, except this tends to seriously affect their personality and sanity. If Malfoy really underwent the Imperius as long as he claims he did, that man's brains should have turned into mush years ago."
Leaning back in her chair, the woman glumly waved a hand in the direction of the small tome she'd been reading. "So, the whole point of Malfoy's defense is just for public consumption?"
Nodding in icy agreement, Arcturus said in his sternest voice, "Yes, and while that's going on, he'll be spending gold like water, now that Lucius knows specifically who in your government are willing to be bribed to help him get declared innocent of all charges."
Millicent dropped her gaze to the desktop, feeling her face heat up in angry embarrassment, but she was unable to deny the truth of her visitor's slighting words. Not when it was set down right there in the diary before her, every single name of those people in the Minister's establishment who'd already illegally received money from a Death Eater to advance Voldemort's plans. What's worse, the witch in her office personally knew a good many of these individuals, counting them as friends, supporters, and those who owed their jobs to herself. Now, Millicent had to destroy others' careers and lives in needfully cleaning house for however painfully it took, eradicating as far down as possible the rot of corruption in her government.
She'd do it, though. No amount of excuses, pleading, or reminders of past favors or friendships would sway Millicent Bagnold at all from firing nine-tenths of her administration, if that was needed, and she'd still grimly continue with prosecution and prison sentences in the most blatant cases. Great Merlin, one man in particular seemed to think he deserved a bag of under-the-counter gold coins every month simply for breathing! Well, even if she eventually had to leave office after being voted out by a populace justly furious with her and the latest regime, Millicent could at least take some comfort in the thought of that idiot Cornelius Fudge being tossed into Azkaban-
The mature woman's thoughts came to an abrupt, reluctant halt, as a previous objection once more raised its hand. Millicent cautiously pointed out to her guests, "Excuse me, gentlemen, but while the goblins might be willing to conduct their business based on what they know about your family heirloom and its truthfulness enchantment, the wizarding world is hardly likely to be so easily convinced. For instance, Malfoy's lawyers will be sure to contest everything-"
"Oh, there's no need to worry about that, Minister," blandly interrupted Arcturus. The Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black continued with only the faintest of smiles, as he further told the confused politician, "It's true we've always managed to keep confidential the contents of that exact chest and the rest like it in our family vaults, but over the centuries, other wizards and witches who owned one of them weren't so successful. The goblins know about several legal cases in the past when the Wizengamot made their final judgment based on information obtained from documents kept in the dwarvenwerk chests. All you need to do is to contact them, and Gringotts will provide the specifics for your prosecutors."
It was only the seriousness of their discussion which prevented Millicent from immediately jumping out of her chair, snatching up Bellatrix's diary, and clasping this book to her bosom while next joyously dancing around in the office. She'd just learned what would warm the heart of any bureaucrat, that there were indisputable official precedents which would finish off the job of finally nailing Lucius Bloody Malfoy along with his bloody hair and that bloody snake-head cane-
Er. Before she actually did something like that to offend her visitors, there was a particularly delicate matter which needed to be brought up right now, just so no nasty surprises would develop in the future. Sending a very direct look at the pair of elderly men benignly gazing back at herself, Millicent declared in her most officious tone, "It's in the Ministry's best interest to deal as severely as possible with the remains of Voldemort's forces, if only to make it clear that nothing of this kind of behavior will ever be tolerated again." Despite the fact the wrinkled faces turned to her were becoming decidedly forbidding, the witch plunged on. "Or, to put it more bluntly, Lucius Malfoy is for one going to have the book thrown at him, and there's the point he married into your family-"
In a severe voice, Arcturus Black overrode the Minister for Magic: "That would ordinarily be private House business, madame." After this genuinely irascible remark, the wizard took a deep, steadying breath, and while still glowering at the stubborn woman across her desk, he grudgingly went on. "However, since the news will be out shortly, it can be disclosed that the House of Malfoy and the House of Black are ending their familial connection."
After watching Millicent's shocked expression change into absorbed wonder over this astonishing information, Arcturus then glanced over at where a stone-faced Pollux sat immobile in his chair. Turning once more to the curious witch, the Head of his House sighed to himself, and then Arcturus unhappily told her, "It was needful to show our granddaughter what Bellatrix wrote in her diary about Lucius and his atrocious acts while serving Voldemort, regardless of the unpleasant details this revealed to her. The only good thing about it is that Bella confirmed Narcissa's complete ignorance of her husband being a Death Eater, since he naturally concealed this and everything else from her."
"What about the Dark Mark? Wouldn't Mrs. Malfoy have noticed this?" a frowning Millicent had to ask.
Before Arcturus could answer, Pollux said in a very cold voice that actually lowered the temperature of the entire room, "In their personal life together, Narcissa overlooked that magical brand." Bitter tears gleamed at the corners of this grandfather at the end of his harsh statement, a sign of the wizard's complete unwillingness to speak further.
Giving his cousin a very sympathetic look, Arcturus then glanced at the subdued woman, telling her, "It's all there in the diary, unfortunately. Once Narcissa…recovered, she instantly demanded that divorce papers be drawn up by our family attorneys. This was completed just yesterday, and she signed these right away. Copies of those documents were sent to the Ministry and to Lucius in custody, and you and everyone else would've learned about it then. Anyway, Narcissa and her son Draco are no longer Malfoys. They have been accepted by and are now again part of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."
There was absolute silence in the office for a few moments, with the unspoken thoughts of the trio there hovering in the air, all having to do with the House of Black once more having an actual heir.
Desperately trying to think of a neutral subject to restart their conversation, Millicent quickly came up with something that seemed safe enough. The minister directed her question to either of the seated wizards, wondering exactly who'd be the one to answer. "Given that both of your granddaughters were married to captured Death Eaters, did Narcissa have a claim to her husband's vault in Gringotts, like Bellatrix did?"
While both of the elders allowed themselves a sardonic twist of their lips, it was Arcturus who chuckled evilly, "Oh, yes, indeed. The goblins got involved again, after we showed them another Black marriage compact, particularily the penalty clause in there on the groom's side that had to do with maintaining a responsible and decorous standard of married life. Anyway, it wound up with Narcissa being repaid her dowry, and also acquiring all the funds and items added to the Malfoy vault after the wedding, up to a week ago. The little buggers wouldn't turn over anything to Sissy before that, but what she got represents a rather large chunk of Malfoy's wealth. That pillock will now have a serious crimp in his plans to buy his way out of prison."
Millicent observed with uneasy fascination, as the pair of old men before the desk both simultaneously chortled together in their fiendish glee. She was watching, the minister nervously reminded herself, a prime example of why it was well known throughout the wizarding world to never make an enemy of the Black family. The woman's attention was quickly brought back to the office by the sudden silence in the room. She looked around to see today's visitors having stopping their unnerving laughter to instead being in the middle of steadily examining her. Before Millicent could react to those unwavering stares, Arcturus spoke again, once more in the most formal of tones, "Madam Minister, the House of Black now comes to the most important reason for our request to personally meet you at this time."
*Sometimes you get the Bludger and sometimes the Bludger gets you,* fatalistically thought Millicent. She braced herself for what was sure to come; but once again, things didn't quite work out the way the witch had expected. A puzzled Minster for Magic then watched as Arcturus drew his own wand and pointed this at Bellatrix's diary lying upon the desk, making a quick gesture with the wooden stick while muttering a short phrase too softly for Millicent to hear. In front of the woman, the small book now opened itself to a previously unread portion of the diary. In mounting curiosity, Millicent started to read the text shown there, only to soon enough have this inquisitiveness change into absolute horror.
With slashing handwriting showing her evident outrage, Bellatrix's words spilled forth on the paper, about how while keeping an eye out for any disloyalty to her Dark Lord, she'd overheard two drunken Death Eaters celebrating a horrific raid on some stray muggles. During their boasts to each other over what they'd done and would eagerly do again, one of the killers had enviously remarked that his companion would get off scot-free if the Aurors ever managed to lay their hands upon him, unless things had changed lately. Finishing off the rest of his firewhiskey, Bartemius Crouch Jr. smirked at his jealous friend, and he went on to brag that the plan he and his slowly-dying mother had set up was still in effect. Though this terrorist's father loathed what his son was doing, the older man had reluctantly consented to his wife's piteous pleas to use his authority and power as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to arrange for the clandestine exchange of the woman suffering from a terminal illness with her child if young Bartemius ever wound up in Azkaban.
After hearing this, Bellatrix had nearly slaughtered Crouch Jr. and his friend on the spot. Only the abrupt understanding that her master needed to know at once about this made the Black daughter silently leave her spot where she'd been eavesdropping and go off to find Voldemort. Listening with great interest to the report of his most faithful follower, the Dark Lord had quickly decided to refrain from interfering now that he knew all about this surprising plan of the Crouch family. Should it indeed occur for whatever reason, the capture of the Death Eater son and the switch by the father for the mother, then Bartemius Crouch Sr. would subsequently be owned body and soul by Voldemort. Under the monster's total control due to threatening to reveal this secret, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be forced to do whatever He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named desired while taking over the Ministry of Magic.
Commandingly ordering Bellatrix to keep quiet about what she'd learned and to also leave the younger Crouch alone, Voldemort felt actual approval at his subordinate's instant obedience, and he decided to grant a rare favor. The Dark Lord then calmly informed a joyous Bellatrix that while one of the Death Eaters she'd spied upon was not to be harmed, it was best to speedily dispose of any potential witnesses. Therefore, as soon as it could be done without arousing any suspicions, Bellatrix was to abduct Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s friend, and she could then do whatever she liked to that unfortunate gentleman.
In the diary, a vicious young woman went on to gloatingly describe the hideous fate she'd subsequently inflicted upon her kidnapped victim, but at that point, Millicent Bagnold had stopped reading to blankly stare at the top of her desk, the woman's head lowered in purest despair.
Right now, Bartemius Crouch Jr. was supposed to be serving a twenty-year sentence in Azkaban due to being an accomplice to the attack upon Alice and Frank Longbottom, which had driven these two Aurors into mindless insanity. Except, if what Millicent just read had indeed come to pass, there was instead inside a prison cell a dying woman who'd taken that freed Death Eater's place, and Minister Bagnold's department head was directly responsible for this.
It didn't matter the slightest even if the reprehensible scheme of the Crouch family hadn't actually been carried out at this exact moment. Just for joining in the conspiracy to liberate his son, Crouch Sr. had commited a crime serious enough to also put him in Azkaban, and now Millicent was going to have to arrest, charge, and send to trial one of her most senior department officers. In past decades, previous governments of the wizarding world had fallen after smaller scandals than what was about to happen, which would well overshadow anything less important, such as the death at sea of-
A terrible realization now burst into existence inside Millicent's mind. She slowly looked up, to immediately find herself pinned back in her chair by two pairs of absolutely merciless eyes.
Arcturus Black and Pollux Black, they knew.
In the utterly hushed office, despite it all, Millicent had to admire the sheer artistry of the vengeance just accomplished by the House of Black. Even that Noble and Most Ancient House would've found it rather difficult to unreservedly bring down low someone so powerful as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but now this task would necessarily be carried out by somebody who partly shared in the blame for the awful injustice done to Sirius Black. No matter how much it cost her, or anyone else.
Standing up on stiff legs, Millicent Bagnold waited for her visitors to also arise, in response to this clear sign that their meeting was concluded. Using equally stiff lips, the expressionless witch intoned towards where Arcturus and Pollus were standing and waiting with perfect poker faces, "The Ministry of Magic owes the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black a true debt, and this shall be paid in full in the proper time. So mote it be!"
A few minutes later, Millicent closed the office door behind herself. She'd personally escorted the Blacks out of the Ministry, a signal honor which nobody among the trio had remarked upon, and after returning to the reception area, Millicent had brusquely told her startled secretary to cancel the rest of her appointments for the day. Moreover, if anyone still insisted upon seeing the Minister for Magic, it'd bloody well better be a genuine emergency or some other unforeseeable event, such as Merlin himself picking today to drop in for a chat and a cuppa.
Speaking of something to drink…
Stepping over to the right-hand side wall of bookshelves filled with thick tomes of wizarding laws and regulations, Millicent tapped a finger several times in an unmistakable sequence against a particular trio of volumes. At once, all three books vanished, leaving behind there on the shelf a hollow space filled with a very dusty bottle and a pair of much cleaner glasses. Grabbing the bottle and one of the glasses, Millicent headed to her desk, all while reflecting this was the first time she'd ever had to perform one of the oldest traditions for the Minister for Magic. At the end of these politicians' terms of office, whether they left willingly or got metaphorically dragged out from power kicking and screaming, it was customary to put in that space a replacement decanter of the finest and most expensive firewhiskey they could find for their successor. Given that sooner or later, something would come up which simply could not be faced while being stone-cold sober.
Millicent Bagnold was now going to have to read the entire diary of Bellatrix Black, from cover to cover.
Several hours on, a very tired witch leaned back in her chair, and she loudly belched. Owlishly staring at the flicker of flames appearing from her mouth, Millicent then let her bleary gaze fall to the heap of paper now covering every inch of her desktop. Vaguely remembering the liquor had run out sometime earlier, Millicent didn't bother looking under the numerous sheets of documents for the firewhiskey bottle. Instead, the weary woman started to pull towards herself the notes she'd been incessantly scribbling, long enough for her wrist to start fiercely aching. It didn't help any that she now started a bit wobbly to stack the papers, until she was done and had one single pile of jotted-down plans, records, and lists. Glancing at the top sheet of the stack, Millicent found there a registrar of Voldemort's entire Death Eater membership, which at the very bottom of the page had the name of someone who was completely unfamiliar to her:
Severus Snape