St. Petersburg Nights
By Natasha Shaitanova
Chapter 10: Undead
Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, I don't own Harry Potter. I do own this little thriller.
A/N: PEOPLE, I MADE A HUGE MISTAKE! Ok, basically I screwed up big at the end of the chapter on the first posting and this is a re-edit. If you read this already RE-READ the ending because it is completely different! I messed up with a name. All good now :)
December 31, 2007
The Malfoy Manor stood imposing and cold, unwavering against the winter's assault of hail and blizzard. A small black-cloaked gathering, led by Narcissa Malfoy, crowded around a high, black-and-silver coffin, shut tight against their peering gazes.
Golden-blonde hair gathered neatly into a bun under her dark shawl, Narcissa placed two white lilies on top of the coffin and proceeded to recite the eulogy she had prepared just last evening. She was dry-eyed.
The figures bowed their midnight-black hoods and murmured a few standard Latin phrases in respect as the coffin was lowered into the ground with a levitation charm, seemingly floating upon the mist that had been conjured up below it, purely for an aesthetic feel.
The next day, the new year would start with glaring highlights from the Daily Prophet: "Tragic death of the Lord of the Malfoy Manor", "Malfoy line ends with the death of the Lord and disappearance of the heir", and of course "Famed Death Eater meets his sticky end".
The reign of Lucius Malfoy was over.
Present
Formerly long hair short and gelled, grey eyes covered by Gucci sunglasses, and with the silk Italian suit jacket hanging casually over his left arm, Lucius Malfoy gazed almost cheerfully over the estate's golf course.
"I never understood the American fascination with golf," the owner of the estate and Gorozin's tennis partner remarked lightly as he joined Lucius on the grass, "But these expansive lawns with little ponds scattered here and there look terribly pleasing, no?"
The two nodded lazily, humming slightly under their breath, before turning as Gorozin approached from the sidewalk.
"Team 2 is arriving anytime in the next half hour. Perhaps it would be best if Mr. Malfoy was directed upstairs?"
"I have had quite enough of hiding in the past five years, Alexei," Lucius thinned his lips in a tight smile at the other man, "It would seem that it is almost time to shock the wizarding world with my sudden resurrection."
The owner of the estate chuckled, before leading his guests back to the golf car, "Aren't you worried about being convicted again?"
"It has been five years," Lucius reiterated, as though his companions had missed that fact, "And the interest on my vaults has only grown. Who on Earth is going to bother?"
"Why, Agent Potter, of course."
"Agent Potter was supposed to have been dealt with," Lucius glared at the two Russians, "Why have you not informed me he is still a problem."
"He is not a pressing problem," Gorozin rubbed the back of his neck, "But he is not exactly dead either."
"So make him dead."
The owner only smiled indulgently, "You propose we do what your old Lord and the rest of his gang found impossible. I am certainly flattered, but such drastic actions are neither probably nor advantageous."
"Ah," Lucius leaned back against the soft seat of the golf car, "Bait."
The Russians smirked, "Bait."
Previous Day
Harry, Dean, and Hermione walked briskly down the dank alley, carefully stepping around the overflowing trash cans. The last site pinpointed on the satellite search was looking decidedly unpromising.
"Figures that the last one is the one we need," Dean grumbled as he avoided kicking a stray cat.
"Let's just hope this isn't another dead end."
Harry took out the detection kit he had spoken of in the parking lot. Quickly assembling the buzzing metal contraption, he placed it on a dry spot in the middle of the alley. Pointing his wand at it, he whispered the activation spell and stood back.
The trio held their breath as the detector hummed and issued a short screech. The display screen on the top of the metal contraption displayed a sequence of numbers.
"Ok, I hope this is not falling through like the rest," Harry muttered as he entered the sequence into the wizard registry on the MIA system. The computer took only seconds to search before flashing the result.
"YES!" Dean clapped Harry hard on the back before peering closer at the computer screen, "Hey, why does it have Lucius Malfoy listed as a secondary candidate?"
"They are obviously closely related," Hermione joined in, "So their registry numbers would be almost identical. Plus, look at the side-note next to Lucius Malfoy's entry."
Her French-manicured finger underlined the bold, red letters at the top of the entry: "Deceased."
"I don't think we have to worry about him."
"Alright, forget Lucius," Harry cut off his companions, "Hermione, what are we supposed to do now? All we know is that he apparated here, but there is no other trail."
"Don't snap at me, Harry Potter, if you expect an answer," Hermione's voice was a touch testy, "You have the muggle satellite version on that system, right?"
"Oh yeah."
"See if you can find anything in the frames of this alley around an hour ago."
As Harry started the search, Dean sat down onto the filthy ground next to him and took out his cell phone, speed dialing 2.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Elizabeth. I just remembered that she keeps her cellphone with her at all times," Dean replied as he listened to the ring, "Even if she doesn't pick up, maybe—"
"Hello?"
The whisper was barely heard over the speaker phone but the trio immediately leaned closer to the phone in bewilderment.
"Dean?"
"Elizabeth?" Dean exclaimed, "Where are you?"
"I am not sure…I think I'm the trunk of a car," three hearts clenched simultaneously at the fearful whispers.
"Are you hurt?"
"No…I'm just really thirsty."
"Elizabeth, can you tell me what happened on the train?"
"I was in the bathroom, putting on my make-up, when the door behind me opened and a man came in. He was dressed in this ridiculous tourist outfit."
"What happened after that?"
"I don't remember…I just woke up a little while ago."
Scratchy tones of static interrupted her before Elizabeth suddenly sounded urgent, "The car stopped! Oh God, Dean, what if they heard me?"
"Hang up!" Dean hated to say what he did but there was no other choice. The last thing they needed was for Malfoy to trace the call, not to mention cause more trouble for Lizzie.
Silent, the trio stared at the flashing screen of the phone, signaling the end of the call.
"She's ok. She has to be. We'll find her," Dean mumbled, not believing his own words. They sounded awkward and flat.
"Ok, I've got the frames," Harry interrupted the pregnant pause, "There was car parked here for about an hour, then it's gone. Here are the frames in the minutes just prior to its departure. Because of the odd angle, we can't see much more than the hood and side windows."
"Look!" Hermione jabbed her finger the corner of a frame, where they could barely see the flowery sleeve of a shirt and a pale hand flopping down next to the elbow, "Didn't Lizzie say he was dressed like a tourist?"
"Fast forward to where it drives away," Dean told Harry as he squinted at the car. The frames flashed past, before—
"There, stop! Can you improve the resolution?" The back bumper of the car came into view and the blurry numbers of the back plate stood out clearly, black on white.
"Right," Harry stood up, laptop in hands as he saved the picture, "Hermione, we need you to get this picture to the media, the internet, the TV, whatever you need to do to get mass attention. Dean and I are going to alert the law enforcement here, in Russia, in Georgia, hell in Ukraine too, and anywhere we have to to be on the lookout for this car. By tomorrow morning, we need the region buzzing with the news, okay?"
"You know you are just forcing him to go even farther under, Harry."
"We need a trail and we need it badly. If we can get at least one solid tip, then I don't care how far under he wants to burrow. I am not letting this case go cold."
"Get off, you son of a—"
"Okay, okay! It's not like you're not enjoying it anyway," Blaise grumbled as he dodged the expected punch and got to his feet, dropping the cage with the cat on the floor of the plush living room.
Scowling, Izzy brushed off his pants and straightened his shirt, before turning to the house elf groveling behind a couch, "Go get your master, elf."
"Jeez, did you have to scare the living daylights out of that thing?"
"Are you a rights activist now, whelp?" Izzy smirked as Blaise crossed his arms over his bare chest, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"No, but you don't have to look at it like you would like nothing better than roast it over a bonfire."
"Careful there, whelp. Don't hurt yourself with such long sentences."
"Oh shut it," Blaise turned away and cast around with his eyes for anything which could be used to cover his bare torso. Facing his employers in such attire would definitely not make a good impression.
"Hey, elf!" Blaise yelled at the empty air, "Guest needs help here!"
He could feel smirking eyes boring into his back and the feeling sent shivers up his neck. 'I am never playing strip poker again…'
His thoughts were interrupted as a cool, smug voice reverberated through the room, "I see you have not changed much since school days, Mr. Zabini."
Blaise whirled around, only to yelp in surprise, "Mr. Malfoy?" He paused mutely, "Aren't you dead?"
"Obviously not," Lucius replied in a bored tone before moving to stand next to Izzy. Blaise's mouth hung down mid word as a shimmering light passed between the two men and his companion seemed to vanish into thin air.
"What the hell did you do to Izzy?"
"Izzy?" an elegantly raised eyebrow rose into the silver hair falling onto Lucius' forehead, "Well, I certainly did not name him that. Your companion was a projection that we created to guide you here. Same goes for the other man that stayed behind."
"We?" Blaise struggled to keep pace with the onslaught of information.
"Gorozin and myself. In fact, your Russian employers are going to be here any moment. Tiffy!"
The groveling house elf reappeared in the middle of the living room, "Master?"
"Find something suitable for this idiot to wear."
Blaise forgot to bristle at the insult as his jeans disappeared, only to be replaced immediately by dress pants and a silk purple shirt.
"Purple? Look, I may be half naked but I am not a poof, elf!"
"That is a hypocritical statement to make, Zabini, after playing strip poker with two other men," Lucius drawled leisurely as he seated himself comfortably on a leather couch.
"I—" Blaise's rebuttal was cut off as Gorozin and the owner walked into the living room from the veranda.
"Ah, Mr. Zabini!" Gorozin exclaimed and encased the bewildered man in a crushing hug, as though he had know him all his life, before kissing him soundly on each cheek in a traditional greeting. Blaise thought it reminded him of American Mafioso movies.
"Come take a seat, have a cup of tea," Gorozin pushed Blaise toward the couch before turning to the elf, "Tiffy! Open that cage would you? Let us not keep Ms. Cox in such indignity for any longer."
A/N: yes yes, terribly sorry for not having updated for a while. But here you go—action is developing and some things are starting to make some sense……..maybe.
THANK YOU to all reviewers!!!! And as usual, I ask EVERYONE to pleasereview. Reviews fuel inspiration, don't forget that!
Merci et au revoir!
-NS
