I don't know tons about chess so forgive my clumsy attempts at a chess game! :-)

Chapter 14: The Long Game

The holiday season had brought a lull to the Manor. Lucius and Mircea had both been rewarded earlier in the year with several weeks of vacation time. The Dark Lord had mysteriously disappeared, busy with his own plans and troubles now that the new Ministry was running smoothly, and for the new couple this was the perfect time to cash in on these vacation days. Who knew when or if they would ever have uninterrupted time together again?

Together they both dropped off of the grid as much as they were able. They told those at the Ministry that their office was shutting down for a month and no one seemed to notice or care, something that was as much insulting as it was a relief. As many house elves were let go as possible and almost all of the Death Eaters had moved out already. There was always Bellatrix, but what of it? As long as they didn't bang on the kitchen table she was too distracted to notice or care; Mircea was no longer competition after all. Draco had also developed his own habits and hobbies long before, mostly independent of anyone else. It was important, however, that Lucius not spend all of his time with his new mistress. His desire to do better than his own father drove him to seek out his son, going against his entire emotionally distant upbringing. This left Mircea with a good chunk of time to wander about the Manor and use her time as she felt.

Considering she had been moved there under duress and in great haste, she rather enjoyed wandering about. She had nosed around Lucius's potion stores until he confessed that it would make him feel better if she did not. It wasn't that he did not trust her, but he had certain brews that could bring tragedy if she were to disturb them. This led her then to explore the closets and corners of the Manor; old houses like this often had rooms that were unused or forgotten.

About two weeks into their relationship, Mircea made an interesting discovery. She had found a little room that was being used as a linen closet. However, it seemed to her that the room was not intended for storage and she decided to follow her instincts on this. She began to rearrange the piles of cloth before something very interesting caught her attention and she began to just throw the linen into the hall behind her.

Lucius returned from Diagon Alley and, on discovering a huge pile of linens in the middle of the fourth floor hall, felt some need to protest.

"You know my home is open to you in every possible way, darling," he drawled, as he strode up to the closet. "But simply throwing all of my good linen into the hall does seem a bit excessive."

There was no response. Mildly annoyed at not getting a rise from her, Lucius peered around the door, into the closet. His mouth fell slightly agape. There was no wall to the back of this closet now. A staircase led up and out of sight instead.

Mircea was grinning at him when he reached the top of the stairs. She was standing in an enormous room that was covered in dust and consisted mostly of rough grey wood. A delicate pattern was traced out in the dust on the floor from the edges of her skirts and her shoes. Dotted in a maze around the room were neat piles and stacks: photo albums, phonographs, trunks, brooms, furniture, and an endless assortment of stuff.

"You've found the attic," Lucius murmured, surprised.

"You lost it?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Obviously we knew it was here. But in the forties it was used as a shelter and so the entrance was blocked off. It could still be reached by Apparation in an emergency. I do not believe I was ever made aware of the door's location."

"It's lovely…"

"Listen," Lucius ordered, moving close to her. "It's completely silent."

"So it is," she teased, pacing back away from him. "It's also cold as ice."

"I'll keep you warm," he purred into her ear. He was wearying of only making love with a silencing spell. He tried to pull her to him but she playfully darted away. She darted right into a huge trunk however, but she managed to muffle the sound when it fell. The trunk broke open and cloth spilled out onto the floor along with small trinkets. Mircea hurried to pick them up, feeling guilty for being so clumsy, and was instantly entranced.

"Lucius, these are gorgeous!" she cooed, running her hand over a velvety silver gown with tiny seed pearls. Lucius knelt beside her and looked over the clothes.

"These are my mother's and my grandmother's," he explained. "I've seen some of this in pictures and paintings."

"Look! Suits!"

They righted the trunk and sorted through the clothes, stacking them carefully nearby. The older lace dresses were in bad shape but the newer dresses were still fairly whole. The suits needed airing but they had kept up very well. Lucius felt enchanted looking at Mircea adoring these gowns. He had never had the chance to dote on Mircea and spoil her the way he wanted to, and it was possible he never would. This melancholy ate at the edges of their relationship continually; there were a lot of things they may never be able to do.

Lucius picked up the velvety silver dress and placed it in Mircea's hands. She looked at him, confused.

"Try it on."

"Lucius, I don't –"

"I want to see how lovely you would look in it."

Mircea was surprised at the sad tone in his voice and agreed, but only if he tried something on as well. He agreed and though they had both adjusted easily to a physical relationship, undressing around one another was somewhat different. Mircea turned away from Lucius in an attempt to hide at least some part of her scars and Lucius moved behind a stack of boxes as well. The room was indeed freezing but Mircea managed at last, despite her shivering, to spell the buttons on the back of the dress. It had a gorgeous turn of the century style to it and flattered her willowy figure.

"Lucius?"

"I'm ready if you are, though I fear you will laugh."

They stepped out and faced one another. Mircea was not at all sure why he was so convinced that he was going to laugh. The cut of the suit was very old fashioned and the waistcoat buttoned up nearly to the neck, but he filled it out nicely and the brocade was a nice touch. Without his usual cravat, the line of black Azkaban numbers stood out clearly.

"I think you look very dashing! What do you think?" she asked, spinning around in the dress. "I don't have the chest to carry it off in the front, I'm afraid."

She had found a circlet of silver and placed that across her forehead as well, making her look younger and less aged. Lucius thought she looked lovely. But he had gotten used wielding the truth like a blunt cleaver with her and so what he said was, "No, you don't."

Unsurprisingly, Mircea was offended. With a frustrated sigh, she tried to push by him and back downstairs. He blocked her and she stared him down.

"That is not what I mean," he tried to explain. "You simply are not …"

"Pretty?" she supplied dangerously.

"Yes."

She tried to shove him out of the way, so he caught her in his arms and carried her further away from the door. He tossed her down in an old orange chair that creaked loudly in protest and he placed his hands on the arms, blocking her.

"Be still!" he snapped. "You're not 'pretty' because 'pretty' is trite and small. You are…" He searched for a word that encapsulated what he actually meant. "Extraordinary. You are not the next Playwitch. But you are a loose cannon with a foul temper and I love that. You make me want to protect you and yet you may be able to best me in a fair fight. You're not pretty and I can't lie to you and say you are. But I've had my fill of pretty women. I want you."

Mircea stared into his eyes for a few moments before cracking a smile. "May be able to beat you in a fair fight? I could kick your ass any day, Mr. Malfoy."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I fight fair, Miss Elaide."

"Thank you… I mean it."

"So do I. I have never flattered your pride and I have no intention of starting now."

"It may have been better to lead off with that last bit however."

Lucius smiled at her. "Maybe."

She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. When they broke away she smiled up at him.

"We'll have to come up here more often if this is the result."

"Oh, we will come back. I can assure you of that," he grinned, checking himself and his fancy suit out in a cracked mirror.

"Knight to C3," Mircea instructed the board in front of her.

Lucius's hand made an attempt to enclose hers but she moved it away smoothly. He made a slight pouting face at her and inspected the board, pushing her hair out of her eyes. They had taken to playing chess beside the huge fireplace in the dining room after dinner. It was the warmest room in the manor until the bedroom fires really got going. Draco often stayed with them, as he had tonight, and either watched them or read. He was better at chess than his father now and Lucius had recently banned him from watching them play, as it irritated him to be corrected by someone half his age. Draco was absorbed in his book, but Mircea knew better than to let Lucius gain even an inch; that was how stupid people got caught.

"Bishop to G3," Lucius finally grumbled. It was really one of the only moves open to him now. He should have made her play Quidditch.

"Rook to G3." The castle slid over from the far side of the board and fired a small cannon that blew apart Lucius's last pawn and opened a path to his bishop.

"Evil…" he murmured before sipping his wine. He could feel Mircea looking at him as he studied the board and it pleased him. He really had expected her to leave for the first few weeks. They were very different people and it showed in their relationship. He already had a failed marriage behind him and was always looking to take their relationship to the next possible level; she, on the other hand, had a hard time not creating flux and imbalance in order to have some sense of purpose. They were also horribly dysfunctional and they both knew it, Lucius most of all. Healthy couples did not fight like they did, switching instantly to venom and even physical violence. But he was determined to keep her, determined in a way he had never needed to be with Narcissa. He had decided the last time they had seriously fought to do something unprecedented in his relationship history: he apologized to her. It made sense that if he wanted her to stay he would have to give her reasons to do so and would have to soften the sharp edges of his character. And slowly it seemed as though she was deciding to stay.

"Bishop to F2."

Mircea gave him a teasing look. It moved his bishop from the rook only for one more move, but it also opened his king. But she knew his mind better than he thought. His queen would be able to reach the rook before she could get close enough to take it. Mircea knew more than Lucius thought she did in more ways than just his rather obvious chess tactics. She knew he was determined to "keep" her and something deep in her kicked against this. It wasn't just the idea of protecting him; it was too late to protect him by leaving him and she knew it. In part it was a restlessness she had nurtured in herself for years. Every day that Lucius woke up and she was still there was because of a conscious choice on her part, because she woke up and talked herself out of running away. Her desire for Lucius confused her and in some ways scared her. Part of her still felt the same way about him that she had always felt: that he was "Ministry" and he was loathsome. Mircea had no idea at all how he had worked his way into her heart and the illogical nature of it perplexed her. But then he would do something so illogical that it seemed to explain why he had hooked her heart. Like when he apologized to her. It had been awkward and rigid, but it had been the awkwardness and rigidity of someone doing this for the first time. There was no logic for why he would, after fifty-plus years, decide now was the time to learn humility, but it had sunk the hook even deeper.

Draco had walked up behind her without her noticing and when he spoke it made her jump: "Why don't you just crush him now? He's impervious to being toyed with."

Lucius pointedly studied his nails. She could almost see the naughty memories floating over his head. She kicked him hard in the shins under the table and his look blackened. Mircea smirked in response.

"Do the honors, Draco," she replied, pushing the chair back and moving away to stare absently into the fire.

"Thanks," Lucius drawled at her.

Un aware of how much time had passed, Mircea was running through possible options for things the Dark Lord could be doing when she noticed someone had spoken to her. It was Draco excusing himself for the night. She nodded and after his footsteps died away Lucius rose and joined her by the fire.

"You seem lost in thought, Persephone." He laid a hand on her elbow. He couldn't help it; he just always wanted to be touching her.

She nodded, not sure how or if she should reply. Then, on impulse, she laid her head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her comfortingly and she returned the embrace. She stayed silent for some time, just holding him and being held by him. Then…footsteps.

They moved at the same time, Mircea moving to Draco's book and Lucius to his glass of wine and the chessboard. Experience had taught them to move slowly and fluidly; there was nothing more obvious than two people jerking apart guiltily.

Fenrir's frame filled the doorway, causing both of them to start. He smelled wild, like woods and mountains and blood, and he looked more feral than ever. His eyes focused on the pair, asking a million questions that couldn't be answered. He felt as though there was something, some trick, nearly perceptible in the air between them, but he couldn't land on anything definite. But there was a new air about Mircea that attracted his attention more than usual, a sensual touch to her look and her carriage. He locked eyes with her and crossed to her slowly, never dropping his gaze.

"You're still here," he stated, his voice a rumbling growl.

Mircea simply nodded and looked over Draco's book, trying to avoid conversation with the werewolf. But the feeling of someone touching her hair made her jump and she looked up to see Fenrir running a hand through her long hair. His hand moved to her neck before she could pull away and gripped it tightly.

"You are so warm…" he rumbled, his thumb running across her throat. The fear he smelled from her was intoxicating.

Lucius was trapped. How could he jump in without giving them away? The impotence of the situation made him physically sick. Secrecy be damned, if Fenrir made one move on her, Lucius would kill him.

"Let me go," Mircea growled, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She knew he could feel her racing pulse under his thumb and it infuriated her.

Fenrir watched her for a moment longer and then inexplicably turned and eyed Lucius. Malfoy's eyes were alive with anger he was not even attempting to hide. Fenrir's hand slid free of Mircea's throat and he turned his attention fully to the other wizard. "My rooms?"

"Where you left them, and in an improved state which I expect to be maintained," Lucius snapped back coldly.

Fenrir simply turned away and disappeared into the darkness. Mircea half fell into a chair nearby, her legs shaking. She had always felt superior to the werewolf but now…he frightened her. She was not alone in this either. Lucius hurried to her side and caught her hands in his.

"Promise me you won't be completely alone – in the Manor or outside of it," he breathed as silently as possible.

"I promise," she said just as quietly. She knew what was worrying him and the same fears were breaking in on her as well.

No one was expecting the Patronus when it came. The New Year had been rung in with a celebration at the Ministry and now everyone was back to routine and work. Draco was still on holiday from school for another week or so, and it was he and Bellatrix who had discovered the Patronus. He had been speaking with his aunt about what Hogwarts was teaching them now that Severus was Headmaster when the silvery creature had made its appearance.

"The boy is here," a man's echoy voice resounded in the hall. "Give me my daughter!"

It faded away into the air as Draco and Bellatrix looked at one another, and then both darted away toward different parts of the building.

"Father!" Draco shouted as he rushed around the manor, looking into the various rooms. For once Lucius was somewhere that didn't seem suspicious – his potions laboratory – for which Draco thanked his stars.

"What is it?" Lucius called back, rushing out into the hall, his sleeves rolled to the elbows and his hair frizzy from the heat of the cauldron.

"Dump the potion."

"Why?!"

"Lovegood's got Potter."

Lucius felt his mind go blank for a moment. Once again the opportunity was presented to him to bring an end to all of this. His potion could get by without him for a little while…

"Find Mircea and Bellatrix and any other idiot that's around here. I'll grab robes and meet you in the hall."

Draco nodded and took off, passing right by Mircea without knowing it. She had heard Draco explaining what had happened to Lucius and now she sprang into action. Mircea had mentally prepared a plan the very day Luna arrived; her father turning the boy over to them was a near certainty and Mircea knew she would have to be ready to act immediately.

Rather than even trying to reason with Wormtail, Mircea clocked him on the head with an empty whisky bottle and he fell unconscious. He had taken to drinking when the Dark Lord had vanished and no one would question him lying there with an empty bottle. She threw open the door to the cellars and swept into the room like a bad omen. Luna and Ollivander jumped to their feet and Mircea froze Ollivander where he stood before he could even draw breath to speak. Mircea brought herself so close to Luna they were nearly touching, singularly focused on her objective.

"If your father needed to hide, where would he be?" Mircea asked quietly.

"What?"

"I will not repeat myself."

Luna stared into the Dark witch's eyes. Every cell of her Ravenclaw brain was kicked into full gear. She remembered the way her arm had been healed and the look in the other witch's eyes. Luna had been given plenty of time to think about all of this and the prisoners heard more down here than the others seemed to think they could.

"Why should I tell you?" Luna asked just as quietly.

"Some of us are playing the long game, witch. Now answer me."

Luna could hear the impatience in her voice and made up her mind. "He would make himself invisible and hide in the shrubs."

Without another word, Mircea unfroze Ollivander and locked them in once again.

"What have you done?!" the elderly wizard exclaimed when he could speak again.

"I don't know!" Luna answered, beginning to worry now that it was all over. "She just seemed so…" There wasn't a good way of explaining it, but she had felt as if Mircea were speaking in code to her and she had gambled.

"Well, you better hope your father can find a new hiding spot!"

Mircea was hurrying up the stairs when Bellatrix found her.

"Where have you been?!" she half shouted at the Romanian witch

"Checking our bait. It seemed imperative given the news."

Bella glanced down the stairwell. "Wormtail?"

"Drunk."

Bella made a disgusted noise and they left without further discussion.

As it was, Bella had already gathered up Draco, Rodolphus and Fenrir. Fenrir was giving Mircea a hungry look as they hurried down to the main hall, and Draco felt the need to put himself between the two of them. He still thought she was an unbalanced home wrecker, but she was his father's unbalanced home wrecker. Mircea noted it and was extremely grateful; it took a lot to scare her but the thought of a half-human stalker with the power to infect her and ruin her life terrified her.

Lucius was waiting for them there with robes and masks. He slipped Mircea hers when he was certain no one was looking, not wishing to explain why he had her robes. Mircea pulled the Death Eater mask over her face and turned to look at her lover. His silted silver mouth with snakes twining the face of his mask made her shiver slightly. Her own mask was more moon-faced with larger eyes but an intricate pattern of sharp blade-like shapes. As she caught her reflection in Lucius's mask, Mircea knew this was not who she really was. A mercenary, yes; a blood-purist, yes; a spy, a cutthroat, and a tormentor, yes… but not an assassin. Everything in her wanted to bolt and get away while it was still possible. But Lucius's hand brushed against hers and reminded her why she was still here. It was not enough to just save herself anymore.

Then they were off. The Disapparation was always harder like this, masked and cloaked in smoke, but they arrived slightly more quickly. The house was tall, ramshackle, and somewhere in there a young man was hopefully unaware of their presence. With a mad laugh, Bellatrix blew all of the windows out of the house, immediately ending any chance of surprise.

Mircea rocketed toward the house, closely followed by Rodolphus. She broke through the front door and began to move around the first floor quickly. Surely Potter would not just run away. The ceiling above them groaned and Fenrir, who had entered just behind them, grabbed her and shoved her back into a wall.

There was a storm of dust and then a chunk of the ceiling the size of a raft collapsed on them. Rodolphus's robes were caught and he was thrown on his back but no one was seriously injured. Mircea forced her eyes open despite the dust and saw… a bushy-haired witch and a young man with black hair. It was undoubtedly him: Harry Potter.

And then he was gone.

Bella, Lucius, and Draco had managed to get in through the back door just moments too late. Lucius looked like a ghost as he clambered through the rubble, covered in a thick layer of white dust.

"He was here," Mircea said, half-disbelieving.

"And you missed him?!" Bellatrix shrilled.

"In case you missed it, Bella dear, the floor did collapse on them. That would include your husband," Lucius snapped acidly.

Bella looked more annoyed than anything and a quick look to see that Rodolphus was in fact alive was enough for her.

"She's right. They Apparated too quickly," Fenrir stated simply.

Bella swore a blue streak as Draco helped extract Rodolphus and Mircea edged away from Fenrir.

"That batty inventor will regret this," she snarled, shooting vertically up into the house. Fenrir grinned and followed her and not long after there were loud explosions.

"Come on," Mircea ordered, pulling Lucius out of the house, leaving Draco with Rodolphus. As soon as they were able to see the gardens and shrubbery in front of the house, Mircea picked out what must be Lovegood's form. His invisibility was good, but obviously not perfect; you could always tell if you knew what you were looking for. An explosion rang out above the bushes he was hiding in and Mircea deflected the rubble quickly.

"Watch it, you psychotic bitch!" Mircea shouted at Bella. "You nearly crushed us!"

"What the hell are you–?" Lucius began, but Mircea simply bent, picked up a rock, and swung it at his forehead. The rock left a gash and he gasped in pain and surprise. While he was still unable to speak, Mircea grabbed his hand and pulled him quickly to the bushes.

"Now if I were a clever person trying to escape I would wait for a proper distraction and then Disapparate," she said aloud, pulling a small rocket from one of the pockets of her robes. She then lit it and aimed at the house behind them, grabbing Lucius and pushing him to the ground. She pressed her lips to his ear and only breathed the words, "Trust me." The rocket went off in red fireworks and Mircea covered Lucius's eyes with her hands. Only she saw the white haired wizard reappear in the bushes long enough to Disapparate.

Bellatrix burst out of the house, followed by Fenrir and her husband, and spun wildly. "He must be here!" she cried. "Who sent that?!"

"As if I would know!" Mircea fired back before Lucius could even react. "You throw tons of rocks on us and I have to look after him as a result!" She pointed to the cut on Lucius's head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Lovegood was gone by now!"

Bellatrix spun at the house and shouted, "Homenum Revelio!" The spell lit up the house, showing they were the only ones there, and she shouted curses at the grey sky while the others watched her.

"Well enough of this," Mircea finally interrupted. "We've done what we could and it's starting to rain. I'll get your concussed brother-in-law home since you apparently can't be bothered to care."

"AND WHY SHOULD I?!" All of Bella's rage turned on Mircea. "Why should I care when both of your days are clearly numbered? I would have taken better aim if I knew that Lucius Malfoy would be crushed beneath the rocks!"

Lucius watched Mircea fight for control over her emotions. He wished that he could warn her and hold her back from doing anything stupid. But he was not the only one who noticed her repressed anger. Fenrir Greyback could feel the anger rolling off of her and saw how her eyes darted to Lucius and how they held each other's gaze. The secretive comings and goings around Malfoy Manor began to come together in his mind.

Without response, Mircea bent, grabbed a handful of the back of Lucius's robes, and Disapparated without a word. When they reappeared in the gardens, Lucius pulled Mircea to a halt.

"What was that?" he asked, emphasizing every word.

"It was insurance."

"You let that maniac muggle-lover go! You deliberately clubbed me with a bloody rock to let him go free!"

Mircea shushed him and he struggled to pull her free from her grasp. She acted instinctively and pressed her lips to his passionately. Lucius softened despite himself and allowed her to kiss him into submission. She broke off the kiss and spoke as softly as she was able.

"I'm leaving, Lucius, and I'm taking you with me. But it requires planning. We need someone on that side who will have us or we will die."

"The girl?"

Mircea nodded and she could see Lucius working the rest out for himself. His grey eyes met her dark ones and she saw he understood.