Chapter 17
The entire way through...
AN: Actually, before we get started on this chapter, I just wanted to take the time to say something - Alex is indeed asian, and no, she's not based off of Tonks, though she's definitely spunky. Why? Well, for one thing, she's based on an actual person. Another thing, I wanted a stronger asian character within the HP Universe, as opposed to Cho Chang's emotional meltdowns. Third thing, think about it people. She's married to Blaise., who, in the movies, is black. Get it now? Blasian couple? And finally, to those who for some reason have an issue with imagining her, go google asian women, people. Anyways, onward with the story!
Narcissa Malfoy hadn't been to Zabini Manor in a long time. So when she apparated into Blaise and Alex's master bedroom, she gave them quite a fright.
Milliseconds upon hearing a resounding crack, Blaise and Alex had jumped out of their bed, wordlessly summoned their wands, and warded their room off from the rest of the manor, wands trained on the intruding figure.
"Oh! Sorry, I just couldn't remember any of the other rooms in your house, Blaise," Narcissa said calmly, as if she apparated into people's bedrooms all the time. "Your mother and I spent the most time here, getting ready for parties. I apologize for the inconvenience."
Alex stared at the regal woman in front of her, and then back down at her giant baggy shirt displaying "We are all brilliantly beautiful brainless bumblebees." Alex sighed, undoing the wards and lowering her wand.
"It's all right Narcissa, you just gave us a start. We'll show you the foyer so you can apparate there next time," Alex smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess."
"Nonsense, it's my fault," Narcissa smiled.
"ALEX! BLAISE!" Draco and Hermione bellowed, slamming open the door.
"We heard the wards come up and the alarm was- Mother?" Draco asked, completely blindsided by his mother's presence.
"You know, this used to be a private room," Blaise sighed irritably.
"Draco! Just who I needed to see. Mrs-" Narcissa began.
"Hermione, please," Hermione sighed, cutting in.
"Narcissa, then," she returned, smiling slightly. "Draco."
Draco's head snapped to his mother. "What? Are you okay?"
Narcissa sighed. "Your father, he's under arrest."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Good."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "Well, give Harry my regards," she sighed, and then nodded to Blaise and Alex. "Mind showing me the foyer?"
"Draco," Hermione began uneasily as he sat down heavily on the Zabini's armchair. She paused as he buried his face in his hands. "Are you all right?"
He looked at her, rolling his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey, and uncorked it. "Does it look like I'm okay?" he asked dryly, taking a large swig. "I'm bloody perfect, thanks for asking."
Hermione sighed. "Seriously, what's going on in that mind of yours?" Draco ignored her, chugging down the bottle in a ridiculously short time.
Fed up with his childish behaviour, Hermione turned to leave the room, before Draco suddenly shouted.
"MERLIN DAMN IT!" he cursed, so that Hermione jumped and spun back towards him.
"Draco-"
"NO! I'm not all right. OF COURSE I'M NOT. My bloody father has done something, again, that has probably destroyed someone's life. And I have to be the one to clean up the shite he left for me, and everyone will still have me regardless of if I performed the deed or not! He swoops back into my life, ruins it, and then parties over with his Death Eater goons in Azkaban, laughing at my predicament. He's probably found some way to screw Medrex over, and all of the family's earnings, just to fuck with me."
"Draco," Hermione said softly. "Not everyone will condemn you for your father's sins. Not the people who matter, anyway."
Draco didn't respond, determined to get roaring drunk.
"Plus," Hermione added hesitantly. "Who knows if he actually did whatever they arrested him for? I mean, we don't even know what crime he's been accused of."
Draco's head snapped up. "Hermione, let's just remember that this is my father we're talking about. Death Eater Extraordinaire, almost murdered you and your friends when you were fifteen, remember? OF COURSE he's done the crime."
Hermione was about to respond when she heard a light tapping on the window. Hermione went to let in a speckled owl, carrying a letter addressed to Draco. "It's for you," Hermione muttered, handing it to him.
Malfoy,
Your father's in for an interrogation investigating his connection to the Hogwarts Massacre. Just thought you ought to know.
Harry Potter
Draco threw the letter to the side angrily, scowling. "If that bloody sperm donor-" he downed another bottle in the next few seconds.
"Draco," Hermione attempted to calm him. "Stop drinking so much, that's not healthy. Calm down."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" he bellowed, rounding on her. "My father is behind the attacks that killed children, and you're telling me to calm down?"
Draco stood up, slamming open the door to the hallway.
"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!" Hermione screeched, pulling out her wand and prepared to stun him, if necessary. "You sit your butt down right now - I won't let you do anything rash! He's not worth the energy, Draco. He's not!"
He turned to her, glaring. "Are you kidding? He almost fucking murdered your daughter, and my son, and you're just going to sit here and wait for the verdict? Mental, you are," Draco hissed. "I'm going to the Ministry. If you're content to just sit there and wait for the news, then fine. Sit there. Don't wait up for me."
Hermione, stunned, watched him walk away from her, mulling over what he had just said. "Draco!" she called, hurrying after him. "I'm coming with you."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh really? Whatever changed your mind?"
'Knowing that there's nothing I can do to stop you, and that you'll probably need someone to restrain you from murdering your father," she answered.
"Smart girl," he muttered under his breath.
The two flooed to the Ministry of Magic, but were thoroughly unprepared for the hordes of reporters that filled the Atrium, blocking their way.
"Ms. Granger!"
"Mr. Malfoy!"
"Former Mrs. Ronald Weasley!"
"Are you two-"
"Could I get a quote on your relationshi-"
"Have you two moved in with each other?"
"How are you faring-"
"Rose and Scorpius, are they friends?"
Draco and Hermione pushed their way through the crowds, but several reporters refused to budge from the lift entrances.
"This is ridiculous," Hermione cursed.
Draco, furious with being delayed, pulled out his wand and pointed it at the crowd. "MOVE, unless you'd all like your corporations to be bought out and RUINED!" he roared.
Most of the reporters, new to the field and easily intimidated, created a path immediately. However, Sheila and Shaun, the two obnoxious reporters from the Ministry Ball, blocked their paths.
"Shaun and Sheila, wasn't it?" Hermione asked mock sweetly, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm sorry, but if you don't move, I'll have to report to your supervisors that you interfered in an investigation of national security importance. Let's see, what the charges would be, hmm? Aiding and abetting a terrorist," Hermione began, but their eyes had widened, so she didn't bother continuing. The two reporters sneered, before moving out of the way. Draco and Hermione angrily shoved their way past them.
When they finally reached the Auror Department, Draco dramatically burst open the doors, to the shock of almost all of the Aurors, looking up from their cubicles. Harry, who had been in deep conversation with Terry Boot, looked up to find a furious Draco Malfoy and a slightly exasperated Hermione Granger.
"Sorry Terry, let me deal with this," Harry concluded, looking at the rest of his employees. "Back to work, then! Nothing to see!" Harry hissed, and the rest of the aurors obediently turned back to their work.
"Malfoy, Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked, approaching them.
"I'm here to find out what my father did," Draco said in a low voice, swaying slightly. Harry could smell the alcohol on his breath, and scrunched up his nose.
"Malfoy, are you drunk?" Harry asked incredulously. Hermione rolled his eyes.
Draco looked around, and then stuck his arm out, eyes closed, and tried to touch his nose. He missed, however, and shrugged as he opened his eyes. "Yeah. Probably."
"Intelligent man, this one," Hermione scoffed.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, expecting that she would have stopped him from coming.
"Well," Hermione began, almost as if she heard what Harry was thinking. "There was no stopping him-"
"She's my fucking lawyer, Potter," Malfoy snapped, cutting in. "I want to be present for the interrogation."
"No way," Harry said flatly. "That's not happening."
Hermione sighed. "I knew this would happen," she said pointedly at Draco. He waved her off.
"Can I just sit behind a mirror or something? Like in those bloody muggle television shows? I don't care if I can't ask him questions, I just want some answers," Draco demanded.
Harry sighed, knowing that a drunk Draco would be ten times more impossible to deal with if he didn't agree. Draco'd likely curse, conjure another bottle, swig it down, throw the bottle and some unsuspecting secretary, and then end up in major trouble for disorderly conduct and possible assault.
"Fine. The interrogation's happening in five minutes. Terry will show you to the room, where you will have no contact with the prisoner, besides watching."
"Deal," Draco said, offering his hand. Harry reluctantly took it, motioning for Terry to bring them over.
"Hermione," Terry said brightly, smiling at her. "How are you doing?"
"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances," she smiled back.
Draco narrowed his eyes as they made cheerful small talk, all the way down to Lucius's room. He was beginning to get a raging headache, and was ready to snap at her as Terry left to make a few preparations.
Hermione, looking through the glass that had been charmed to hide the interrogator's presence, studied Lucius Malfoy as he sat there, with a bored look on his face.
She turned to Draco momentarily, and was startled by the expression of pure disgust he wore. "Draco," she said softly, hoping to distract him from his utter hatred for his father. However, his expression changed to pure anger as he stared at her.
"What?" she asked, irritably. "What did I do, now?"
He sat down, ignoring her question, and leant back in his chair, crossing his legs. Hermione huffed. If he was going to be like that, then she wasn't going to appease him. She hadn't done anything, so he could just stuff it.
Moments passed, before Draco finally broke the silence.
"Rather chatty with Boot, weren't you?" he asked snootily. She shot him a glance, astounded that he looked... jealous.
"For Merlin's sake, Draco, we were just talking," she emphasized, shaking her head at his moronic behaviour. "He's got a wife, and children, if that helps."
He continued to glare at her, and she rolled her eyes again. Sooner or later, her eyes were going to detach themselves and start rolling all over the place, if he kept this up.
"What's got you so worked up?" she demanded. "He's a friend, Draco. Merlin, I thought you'd be better than Ron-" Hermione was cut off as Draco slammed her into the wall.
"Never," he hissed. "Never compare me to the Weasel."
"If you weren't such a hyped up, jealous little ferr-" he cut her off in a bruising kiss. It wasn't sweet, or passionate. It was a dominate claim, marking her as his. And, it was also to shut her up.
When they both came up for air, she slapped him on the arm.
"Possessive bastard," she chastised. "Honestly, you've got nothing to worry about."
He swooped in for another kiss, but she pushed him off of her, and he stumbled a bit.
"We have an interrogation to get through," she chided. Her scolding softened, though, into worry as she saw him clutching his head. "Draco? What's wrong?"
"Dizzy," he muttered, leaning on the wall for support.
"Well, if you hadn't drunk so much, you wouldn't have so many issues," she snapped, becoming irritated again.
Harry and Terry came in, nodding towards Hermione and Draco.
"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked.
"He's nauseous, thanks to the ridiculous amount of alcohol he consumed in thirty seconds," Hermione answered. She muttered a sobering charm under her breath, and Draco's head snapped up, shooting her a grateful glance.
"Let's get on with it, then," Terry suggested, pulling out a muggle recording device, as well as a magicked quill and some parchment.
Harry tapped his wand, and then spoke into it like a microphone. "State your full name, date of birth, and immediate relationships."
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, October 18th, 1954, Husband to Narcissa Malfoy, Father to Draco Malfoy," he drawled slowly. "Shall I name the innumerable amount of first degree contacts I have within the Ministry, Malfoy Enterprises, or the world? What about second degree? Third degree? Grandparents? Great Grandparents?" he asked sarcastically.
"What is your relationship with Marcus Flint?" Harry continued, ignoring Lucius's acerbic tone.
"He was on my son's quidditch team at Hogwarts," Lucius said dryly.
"Have you had any contact with Marcus Flint since his Hogwarts days?"
"No," Lucius answered with simple ease.
"Have you administered veritaserum?" Draco hissed to Terry, who nodded.
"Unless he's developed an immunity, this is the truth," Terry shrugged.
"Have you had any contact with former Death Eaters since Voldemort's death?" Harry continued. Lucius snarled at the use of the Dark Lord's name.
"Yes," Lucius stated.
"Who?"
"My son," Lucius hissed. Draco stiffened beside Hermione, who grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.
"Anyone else?" Harry prodded.
"No," Lucius smirked. Hermione and Draco instantly knew he had gotten away with something.
Hermione grabbed Harry's wand, surprising him but he didn't complain. "Have you had any contact with current Death Eaters since Voldemort's death?"
Lucius's arrogant sneer instantly turned malicious. "Potter," he spat. "So weak at your own job that you have to bring the little mudblood along?"
"I'm going to throttle that fucking little-" Draco roared, but Harry and Terry grabbed him before he could ram himself into the glass.
"Answer the question, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said harshly.
"It depends on the definition of current and Death Eater," Lucius sneered.
"You're not going to get anywhere with this, Harry," Hermione warned as she handed his wand back. "Move onto the raids in France, or something that he knows about. His alibi during the Hogwarts... Massacre."
"Do you have contacts in France?" Harry continued.
Lucius scoffed, tapping his cane on the ground. "Of course I do, Mr. Potter. I see the mudblood has informed you it won't be easy pulling any information out of me. Not with your high morals, after all. You wouldn't dare stoop down to my level, Mr High and Mighty Chosen One."
Draco needed to be physically restrained to a chair, and Terry was becoming frustrated.
"Incarcerous," Hermione whispered quickly so that ropes tied Draco down.
"What are the nature of your contacts?"
"Family. After all, my family is largely French."
"Have you done any business in France recently?"
"No," Lucius sniffed. "And how is that relevant?"
"Well, let me see here," Harry began quietly, with a deadly undertone. "We've investigated your finances, the boring stuff - transfers, deposits, withdrawals. Nothing too suspicious, until we uncovered massive payouts to a French lawyer, and several transfers of enormous sums to accounts in France, not under the Malfoy name. Nor the Black family name."
"Is there a question in that convoluted statement?" Lucius tapped his fingers against the table, looking at his watch impatiently.
"Why the lawyer?" Harry asked. "Are you preparing yourself for another trial, knowing in advance that you probably won't get out of a life sentence in Azkaban this time around?"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "I'm unaware of payments to any French lawyer recently. I believe I'm entitled to the name of that recipient?"
Harry gritted his teeth. "Pierre Avesne."
Lucius's eyes widened, but he maintained his composure. "I wasn't aware of any business with Monsieur Avesne."
"So then how about these transfers? Aiding any of those Death Eater riots in France?"
"Again, depends on your definition of Death Eaters."
"Why did you transfer such a large amount of money over to an unnamed account?"
"See, Potter, your definition of large is probably awfully small-"
"Three hundred ninety-four million galleons," Harry cut the blonde off. "And that's just one transfer."
Lucius Malfoy was honestly bewildered, but his face hardened. "I was not aware of such a transfer."
"Bat spleens," Terry spat in the corner.
"Where were you on January 27th, 2014?" Harry demanded.
"Meeting with the corporate board of directors of Medrex and Malfoy Enterprises," Lucius gritted out. Draco cursed again. "Which is, by the way, none of your business."
"For how long and during what time?" Boot asked.
"I was at the Malfoy Enterprises headquarters in London from 8 am to 4 pm, roughly. I was at Medrex from approximately 4:30 pm to 8:30 pm at night."
"He couldn't have been at Hogwarts, then," Hermione stated breathlessly.
"We'll confirm his alibi," Harry said unwaveringly.
"What did you do in between 4 and 4:30?" Terry asked.
"Drank a little while at the newest Dynasty pub in Diagon Alley. Is that a crime?" Lucius sneered. "If we're done here, I have a meeting in Germany shortly."
"How is it, then, that the necklace Marcus Flint was wearing had the Malfoy insignia on it?" Terry demanded, using his own wand.
"Necklace?" Lucius Malfoy scoffed. "My family history is long and distinguished, with accompanying jewelry that testifies to our superiority. How one simple necklace made its way to Marcus Flint is completely unintentional on my part. Many family heirlooms were seized by the ministry in one of their supposed 'dark artifact' raids. Perhaps one of your honest aurors sold a useless necklace, and it exchanged hands until it fell into Marcus Flint's. But that of course, is conjecture. I. Don't. Know." Lucius challenged the mirror in front of him.
"One more question. On the day you were reintroduced to British society, Marcus Flint was broken out of jail. Do you know anything about the jail break?"
"Only what was printed in the DailyProphet," Lucius smirked. "But you might want to check out Vaila Seris. After all, she has... contacts... in France," he jeered, before standing up. "Face it, Potter, you have nothing on me. So, be a gentleman and Let. Me. Go."
Harry sighed resignedly, knowing he had been beaten. He called for a group of backup aurors to escort Mr. Malfoy out of his interrogation cell, and the adults walked back to Harry's office.
"Well?" Harry asked Terry. "What do we think?"
"He doesn't know anything," Terry muttered. "He actually doesn't."
"My thoughts, too," Harry sighed. "Nothing connects him to any of this, beyond the necklace that Flint was wearing. How is it possible that he knows nothing?"
"He knows something," Draco hissed, rubbing his arms where the ropes had bitten into him. "Why would he have you check out Vaila Seris, otherwise?"
"He said that as a taunt," Terry dismissed. "The fact that she has contacts in France was just an allusion to our question about his connections in France."
"I think you should check her out anyway," Hermione added. "It never hurts to be safer than sorry."
"Fine," Harry conceded, jotting her name down on a piece of parchment. "What on Earth were the transfers about, then?"
"As much as I dislike to vindicate my sperm donor," Draco growled, "he honestly didn't know what they were. You could see it in his eyes."
"He didn't seem that surprised," Terry mentioned.
"Harry," Hermione began. "Lucius Malfoy is a snake. A slippery, loathsome snake. Whenever you say Death Eaters, the usual definition is "those who follow or followed Voldemort." But Voldemort's dead, so no one's really a Death Eater. Terry, you asked him if he knew anything about the jail break. That doesn't necessarily include the people behind the jail break, or who actually staged it. You allowed him to say nothing, because he doesn't know exactly what time it happened, or how it was conducted. He might know who's behind it, who ordered it, or why it happened, but none of those aspects were required answers out of that question. We let him slip away," Hermione ground out, frustrated.
"Why didn't you say something?" Harry asked.
"I didn't recognize the dodges until now!" she protested. "Anyways, it doesn't seem like he knows much, even if he did successfully evade some of your questions. We should start by checking his alibi, questioning Vaila Seris, and investigating those transfers. Maybe stop by that Pierre lawyer's office, too."
"Do you know who Pierre Avesne is, Malfoy?" Harry directed at Draco. Draco nodded, biting his lip.
"He's a property lawyer," he muttered, his eyebrows drawn together.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked concernedly.
Draco sighed. "Pierre Avesne specializes in divorces and inheritances. It seems as if we need to pay a visit to my mother."
"MUM?" Draco called once he apparated into the foyer, Hermione following shortly. He strode through the halls, getting frustrated quickly. "Hortesse!" he called.
The small elf popped right before him, clad in a simple but decent dress. "Yes, Master Draco?"
"Where's my mother?" Draco asked impatiently.
"In the dining room with Master Malfoy. Hortesse thinks Master Draco should not interrupt Mistress and Master Draco's father. Theys be having a disagreement, Master Draco," Hortesse informed him nervously.
"Nonsense," Draco scoffed, walking quickly down the hall. Hermione followed after him.
"Is this the dining room...?" she asked meekly, hating herself for her sudden weakness. Draco paused, his posture softening.
"No," he replied calmly. "We burned everything that the Dark Lord touched, and rebuilt it. Nothing's the same."
And then Draco slammed open the doors.
"I WILL PROTECT MY SON, EVEN IF IT'S FROM YOU!" Narcissa was shouting at a cold Lucius.
"And why would he need protecting from his own father?" Lucius hissed, before Draco's parents turned to see the intruders.
"Mother," Draco began calmly. "What have you been doing?"
Narcissa sniffed, looking down her nose. "Only what is required to protect my son," she replied aloofly.
"Which involves?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"Stay out of my family's business," the Malfoy patriarch snapped.
"But it's my business," Draco retorted. "And she brings up a critical point. What have you been actually doing, Mother?"
Narcissa ignored him, staring coldly across the table at her husband.
"She," Lucius began stiffly. "Is filing for a divorce. And she's been paying Pierre to figure out a way to portray me as unfit as the Malfoy head of family. If we divorce, she has the potential to possess over seventy percent of our property, both financial and material. If Pierre successfully discredits me as the Malfoy head, then you, son, will become the new head of house and inherit all of my property. Even if Pierre is unsuccessful, you still stand to inherit seventy percent of our property if your mother signs it all over to you," Lucius growled.
"That sounds perfectly acceptable to me," Draco scoffed, beginning to stride out of the room.
Lucius sighed. "And why are you so quick to condemn me?"
"Gee, perhaps it's because you're trying to take over my company and destroy all of the growth that has happened in the family business," Draco said mockingly.
"You, my ungrateful son, have absolutely no idea about what I've been doing!" Lucius hissed.
"Oh, meeting with the board of directors to dismantle my influence in both companies that I actually own?" Draco snapped back.
"Do you even know what went on in those meetings?" Lucius retorted, cutting Draco off as he opened his mouth. "No, no you don't! So you have no right to assume that I am out for your destruction!"
"No right, NO RIGHT?" Draco roared. "Who was it that continued with the Death Eaters, even though you knew what it would do to us, your family? Who was it who offered me up to the Dark Lord as a slave, as a means to get back into his good books, when you knew he meant for me to die? I have no right to assume that you're trying to destroy me? HAH!"
"All I ever did was in your best interest, even if it didn't work out the way I planned," Lucius hissed.
"THAT IS THE LARGEST LOAD OF BAT SPLEENS I'VE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE!" Draco shouted.
"It's really not," Lucius replied in a low, deadly voice.
"Well then enlighten me!" Draco growled.
"You didn't see what the Dark Lord did in the first Wizarding War," Lucius said quietly, his eyes glazing over. "He destroyed families, raped muggles, annihilated people's love and livelihoods. If you didn't want to be subject to his wrath, you joined. If you were in Slytherin, you joined, or you died. There was no choice, you understand? And when the Dark Lord came back, it was either join, or die, again! We had no choice. Why do you think I stopped Bella from killing your classmates? Why do you think I let Potter get away with that prophecy? Because I truly wanted to serve the Dark Lord? Of course not! Except, the consequences were much worse than I anticipated. Instead of punishing just me, he punished you."
Draco was silent, a muscle working in his jaw.
"And then, there was nothing I could do but encourage you to serve him as well as possible, to keep you alive. Your mother and I, we didn't even fight during the final battle. All we wanted was to find you. And that's all we ever needed."
"So what now?" Draco snarled, gesturing wildly. "Why have you come to destroy everything I've built?"
"I HAVEN'T!" Lucius roared, slamming his fist onto the table. "I was making connections, allowing you to increase your span of international influence! The only way I could do that is if I took over your property and made those connections myself! Your board of directors would never have listened to me if I didn't own the company, and my contacts would never have listened to you, a young inexperienced Malfoy. Don't you see, I had to do it the way I did!"
Silence. Absolute and utter silence. After minutes ticked by, Hermione dared to ask the question on everyone's minds.
"Why didn't you tell Draco and Narcissa that that was what you were doing?" she asked slowly, and Lucius's gaze snapped up to her.
"Because," Draco said slowly. "Malfoys never show all of their cards."
And for the first time in her life, Hermione saw Lucius Abraxas Malfoy genuinely smile.
AN: SORRY! I'm SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN WEEKS. I WAS SO BUSY WITH MY INTERNSHIP PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. Anyways, here's the next chapter. SO, Lucius is out of the game, so who do you suspect? Hmm? Who's behind Flint's attacks? GUESS BELOW, in that really adorable review box right down there, kay? Thanks so much for reading! Thanks to views in Cyprus and Tunisia! Also, as a little enticement for more reviews (because they make me a better writer), if we can reach 100 reviews by Chapter 20 (which will be the Epilogue), I might write a bunch of Dramione bonus fluffs that won't be seen in the rest of the story as a Chapter 21 -if you guys want that. Only a few more chapters to go, so please review!