Slamming the parchment down on his desk, Lucius Malfoy stood from his seat and made his way to his set of fine crystal decanters to get a tumbler of firewhiskey—hoping to soothe his frazzled nerves. As he poured himself a glass, his floo went off—signaling he had a visitor.

Turning to the hearth, he saw Thoros face in the flames.

"Lucius, do you have a moment?"

Setting his glass down, Lucius waved his wand and opened the floo for his fellow comrade to come through.

A few seconds later, Thoros was standing there siphoning off the soot from his robes and a quick glance and nod at Lucius gesture—had his friend handing him a half full glass of firewhiskey as they both sat down on the sofa.

"You seem unsettled." Thoros eyes gleamed as he considered the Malfoy Lord over the rim of his tumbler, watching Lucius expression darken noticeably.

"Muriel Prewett is a stubborn old crone." Lucius replied, his tone biting and Thoros couldn't help but smirk.

"You've always known this," Thoros replied in amusement, "Did you honestly expect that just because Hermione's magic had chosen your son, that Muriel would allow you to run roughshod over her in the negotiations?"

Lucius huffed, refusing to dignify that comment with a response—while his friend just eyed him speculatively.

After a few moments of silence, Thoros decided to take pity on his younger friend.

"What's the issue?"

Waving his wand, Lucius accio'd the parchment and handed it to Thoros, who perused the contents with a calculating gaze before throwing his head back in laughter.

"Well...well...well..."

"I don't appreciate your tone, Thoros."

"I don't imagine you would, old friend. But did you honestly believe that Muriel Prewett would agree to allow access to anything in relation to the McKinnon family?" Thoros shook his head in exasperation. "Even I know that Muriel doesn't have that right. Only Hermione does." Thoros gaze then narrowed in accusation, "What are you after?"

Lucius stood and moved over to the area behind his desk where a large portrait of his parents were located. He waved his wand and the painting shimmered, revealing a space behind it. Taking his wand, Lucius cut his finger and used his blood to break through the enchantment before pulling out a small ledger of some kind. He then reset the wards, and sauntered back over to his spot, handing the booklet to his friend before re-taking his position on the sofa.

Thoros gazed down at the small book with a discerning eye as he could feel the magic radiating from it. Opening it, he read through the first few pages, his eyes widening in surprise as he continued to read a bit more before closing the book and handing it back to his friend.

"How long has the Malfoy Family had that?"

"Four hundred years, more or less." Lucius set the book down and grabbed his glass to take a sip of his Ogden's finest. "One of my ancestors married into the McKinnon line and that book from what my Father shared, came from the McKinnon estate."

"Do you know where it's located?"

Lucius shook his head. "No one does to my knowledge except Hermione, and those she's allowed to enter the grounds with her."

"Why is it so important to you to antagonize Muriel in such a vein, when you know her hands are tied?"

"Because I have a theory, and if I'm right it may explain why Marlene McKinnon's Family left the estate during the height of the First Wizarding War."

Thoros lifted an eyebrow in question, but Lucius just took another sip of his drink before standing back up and replacing the book back from where he'd taken it.

"Have you given any thought to the 'token'?"

"I have." Lucius hummed as he sat back down. "And you were holding part of it within your hand."

"So you mean to return a book that rightfully belongs to Hermione to begin with?"

Lucius shook his head.

"Not exactly, old friend." The Malfoy Lord paused as he took another sip of his drink, before setting it down on the coaster and sitting back, his expression pensive. "I believe that I am close to discovering the truth behind the McKinnon's death."

Thoros was taken aback. "They were killed by Dolohov after Pettigrew outed their location, we both know this."

"That's the simplest answer," Lucius agreed, "but I'm not convinced it's entirely the correct one."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"We suspect that Dumbledore encouraged the family to leave their ancestral home for reasons no one can guess, but what if the Manor itself was compromised to begin with and the family had no choice but to leave?"

Leaning forward, Thoros eyes glittered with intensity. "How?"

"For generations, it's been assumed that McKinnon Manor was nigh on impenetrable, but as we've learned recently? There may be certain instances where wards, even ones as strong as Hogwarts...can be breached and have."

It only took a few seconds for Thoros to understand.

"Animagus."

"Yes," Lucius tilted his head in agreement. "Pettigrew can be ruled out I believe, because as we both know he was the one to tell Dolohov the McKinnon's location after they left their ancestral home."

"Then whom?"

"My future daughter in law is an animagus. A Phoenix as we've seen. However, she isn't the only Phoenix."

"Shite," Thoros murmured deeply, "Dumbledore's familiar."

"Yes. Do you not remember what occurred when Fudge tried to take the Headmaster into custody last year?"

Thoros nodded. "He used his familiar and apparated through the wards of Hogwarts."

"Indeed," Lucius drawled arrogantly, "while the wizard is Headmaster, and can come and go as he pleases—perhaps he tried to use his familiar to penetrate the wards at McKinnon Manor."

Moving back in his seat in shock, Thoros pondered Lucius words carefully and as much sense as it made—how would they go about proving such perfidy?

"It doesn't explain exactly why you want access to the McKinnon lands."

"Magic leaves traces as we know, Thoros. If I'm correct, the Headmaster may have been trying to gain access to the McKinnon property for years."

"What if the old coot is an animagus himself?"

"Therein lies the crux of the problem."

Both men considered the issues at hand, but neither one had a clue what to do about it.

"If you're right Lucius, and Dumbledore somehow—purposefully made it so the McKinnon's left their ancestral home...thereby leading them to slaughter? How do you think your future daughter-in-law might take such news?"

Lucius smirked as he smugly crossed his right leg over his left thigh, as he draped his arm over the back of the couch.

"I believe that Hermione will be rather incensed if we can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dumbledore either directly, or indirectly was responsible for having her Mother killed. Can you think of a better token than that?"

Thoros chuckled and shook his head at how utterly Slytherin his comrade was.

"I do believe I can't, old friend." Thoros paused then inquired, "why not tell Muriel directly?"

"Tradition forbids it, you know this."

"It forbids you from outing the token before its given...but as for myself?"

Chuckling deeply, Lucius silver eyes sparkled with glee. "I do believe that just might work Thoros."

"If you'll excuse me Lucius, I do believe I best make that visit post haste?"

The other man bowed his head in parting, watching Thoros floo away with a satisfied smile upon his face.

Perhaps his friend would succeed where he could not.

Moving back around his desk with the modified contract from Muriel, Lucius added a few codicils and addendums to some of the more cognizant points. He understood while Muriel wanted the Prewett line to benefit from the union, but Lucius first responsibility was to his house. A male heir, therefore was paramount. Of course Draco and Hermione's first born son would be the Malfoy Heir. If other children came from the union, which was unlikely as the Malfoy's hadn't given birth to more than one heir in over 200 years—then Lucius might understand the notion of having any subsequent children taking over either the Prewett of McKinnon estates. The bride price was another issue he was unwilling to negotiate upon. Normally a dowry would be given by a prospective witch's Family, but Muriel had decided to enact a more ancient custom and demand an actual bride price for her Granddaughter. She would then match that price into the dowry and that money would be given to Hermione to use at her sole discretion.

It was a mercenary tactic to be sure, and while Lucius appreciated the volley—the amount in which Muriel was suggesting was ludicrous.

The dowry for Narcissa has been a million galleons, and from what Lucius had heard from his friends at school—no witch had ever fetched anything close to that sum.

Muriel wanted twice that amount.

Plus a guaranteed equal sum for each future child, male or female.

That was simply, unheard of.

For a male heir, yes. A female?

Lucius scoffed at the thought.

Then the witch had the audacity to demand that Lucius agree to fund any Masteries (plural!) that Hermione wished to undertake, as well as research and travel expenses.

There was even a codicil about wardrobe, jewelry and an unlimited supply of books.

The infuriating crone was trying to put him into the poor house!

Slamming his hand down on the contract, Lucius growled out in frustration. It wasn't the galleons so much, it was being outplayed by a witch! A vicious Gryffindor witch whom he wanted to strangle.

His irritated groan as he rubbed both hands down his face, wasn't missed by his lovely wife, who even now—was watching him with amusement.

"Luc?"

Silver eyes lifted to his wife and Lucius felt his body instantly deflate at her presence. She could always manage to calm him, even in the worst circumstances.

"Hello love, how long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. I just came to see what you'd like for supper this evening."

Reaching out his hand, Lucius watched his wife move effortlessly into his study as she perched herself onto his lap and kissed him gently.

"I am fine with whatever." He drawled lazily, his hands grazing his wife's thighs absently.

Narcissa spied the parchment on the desk, and hummed thoughtfully. "Are you both still haggling over the children's future?"

"You make it seem as if I have a choice?"

"Of course you do Luc." Narcissa admonished with a wave of her hand. "You enjoy the challenge too much. Even if Muriel were to give you all you'd ask for? You'd still suspect duplicity and deceit."

Lucius smiled lovingly at his wife, as she knew him far too well.

"You make that sound like its a bad thing, Cissy."

"No, it's not." His wife was quick to reassure. "But I'm fairly certain, our Son will not appreciate this game of brinkmanship you insist on taking part of. Draco will be seventeen in a little over four months time. You and Muriel need to get something concrete written and sent to the Ministry before that time."

"Yes dear."

Lucius knew better than to argue with his wife. She was a Black, and despite her outwardly calm demeanor—his little vixen was unmatched in both cunning and cleverness.

"I will make sure to get something definitive soon."

"See that you do, dear husband."

Lucius watched his wife stand and smirked at she placed a chaste kiss on his head before she glided out of his study, his silver eyes glued to her backside.

After she was gone, Lucius tilted his head back on his chair and stared at the ceiling—deep in thought. He had to wonder just how fortuitous Thoros visit to Muriel Prewett would be.

He hoped for his sake, his friend was better at negotiations than he was at present.