Autor's Note:
The idea for this interlude wouldn't leave me alone - and got longer then I expected it to be. It is a bit of a break from the usual perspective of the story, but I think it is worth it.
Interlude - Lucius
"This time the old fox can't wriggle out of it again. The majority mostly stands - now that we have the necessary leverage," Lord Rowan Blishwick declared with a self-satisfied smile on his lips. Even a slight smirk was a rarity on that face and Lucius ought to know. After all, he spent no small amount of time cultivating his relationship with Blishwick.
With a raised left eyebrow, Lucius replied sceptically, "That kind of optimism doesn't become you, old friend. It would not be the first time Dumbledore has used a speech to gently remind his critics of his importance to our nation. Of how without him as a watchful dragon, the hordes of our so uncivilised neighbours would descend upon us."
For despite all the opposition that the old man in the Wizengamot had gradually turned against him, no one forgot who had virtually single-handedly stopped Grindelwald's revolt. Nor what had happened to his enemies at the time. Standing in Dumbledore's way was a dangerous business.
"It's different this time, Lucius," Blishwick countered defiantly. "We have four of his people in custody. All clad in illegal goblin armour, freshly caught attempting vandalism and vigilantism. They even gave an indiscriminatory speech before attempting to carry out their misdeeds."
Here Blishwick laughed out loud, but then continued, "Even the underaged Potter, whom we have placed under house arrest, will face a full trial, as will the other three. No matter how Dumbledore reacts, it will cost him reputation.
"None of us appreciate the way he undermines the authority of the institution. If he stands up for them, he openly proclaims his sympathies - something he had always denied. That would create a storm of protest. Our group and the progressives would be in an uproar.
"But if he vilifies them, he will not fare much better. By doing so, he would anger his own faction. The Traditionalists wouldn't like to see the one who put their children in this position in the first place staying out of it, when it comes to picking up the pieces."
Rowan Blishwick led the so-called Moderate faction. This mishmash of diverse members of parliament were united by one thing above all: their opposition to Dumbledore. For the most part, they were pragmatists without grand ideological airs. Their position on segregation was very variable, but almost always far milder than anything openly advocated in Dumbledore's faction.
Interestingly, when Blishwick took over his mandate from his grandfather, he had not been that far removed from Dumbledore's positions. But like any ambitious and cunning politician, the man with thinning brown hair and bushy eyebrows had sought his own base and formed a bloc of milder conservatives and milder progressives. Blishwick had been plotting against Dumbledore for almost twenty years now and apparently never tired of it.
"It is quite possible that he is not present at the meetings," Lucius mused. " According to the rumours, he still hasn't recovered from his last so-called illness. At the very least, this would seem to give him a good reason to stay out."
"It doesn't matter. All I need are voices from the traditionalist camp. Staying out of the proceedings is not so different from throwing your own people to the wolves. Lord Cairns and Lady Wood have won seven others from their ranks to the cause. All my faction need do in return is to show leniency. Of course, I wouldn't put it past them to dishonour our agreement, so we will vote together on the sentences and the amendment."
Lucius nodded appreciatively. It was a victory that went far beyond the well-reasoned self-interest of Blishwick and his minions. Riddle would rejoice. The scheme, as Blishwick had been calling the amendment for almost a decade, was to repeal an old law that allowed the Wizengamot to rescind and reassign an hereditary mandate if his family line could be shown to have Muggle ancestry in any distant past.
Of course, almost all magical families, if you went back far enough, had Muggles in their ancestry. Therefore, many clans destroyed their earliest documents. But since there were expensive magical ways to prove such things, they were very careful not to step on Dumbledore's toes. He always managed to arrange majorities for this purpose.
For example, scum like Lord Weasley had received his mandate and thus his title. And his own grandfather Croesus Malfoy lost his. He had launched a fierce campaign against the British vampires, who, unfortunately, were secretly allies of Dumbledore. As a result, Dumbledore saw to it that his grandfather was politically eliminated.
Lucius hoped to be able to win a new, office-bound mandate himself at some point. After everything that had happened to his grandfather, he could forget about a hereditary one. Lord Malfoy had such a nice ring to it. Unfortunately, he didn't exactly have the best of conditions for it. His family's propensity to be sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts, and the fall of his grandfather, had given his family a dodgy reputation. And in a way, he was living it.
Even though his connections to Riddle's henchmen were not openly known, some people whispered about his true positions. After all, his wife's sister had been married to Riddle's son. Even if he had wanted distance, Narcissa insisted on her good relations with her good sister. She ignored the other, interestingly enough. After all, the child of two Mudbloods was considered a Half-blood and thus Bellatrix had committed no blood treason. Andromeda, on the other hand, had married a real Mudblood and had thus earned Narcissa's haughty contempt.
Lucius himself was not quite sure if his wife even saw how inconsistent, or at least how quibbling, this approach was, but he preferred to remain silent on this matter. Even if he thought Andromeda was by far the more pleasant person. When Bellatrix had been alive, Lucius had hated her biting, demanding manner.
But through his contacts with Serpens and Bellatrix Riddle, he had slipped further and further into Riddle's haze. When he took up his post as Blishwick's personal assistant, it had been only small requests at the beginning, initially put forward by Serpens. Later, Tom Riddle personally demanded ever greater favours, which were basically nothing more than open espionage. He had let himself be lulled by hopes and dreams and later he was in too deep to stop.
He would be assured of a mandate if Riddle won - only he had long since ceased to believe that would ever happen. Blishwick would now possibly achieve more with this legislation than Riddle had officially achieved in his entire career as a so-called revolutionary. Of course, Riddle himself would probably say that the whole situation was entirely his doing and would never have come to fruition without his organised defence of Slytherin's Burden.
And probably that was kind of true. But it would never really be Riddle's victory, in the eyes of the world it was Blishwick's. So in the end he was nothing more than an obscure puppeteer standing in the dark while his puppets danced. But Lucius did not believe that all this had really been intended by Riddle. Not even he had the foresight and resourcefulness to plan a skirmish like this precisely.
"But if Dumbledore does appear, can you guarantee that he will not stop this tying of court order and legislation? As Minister for Magic, he could forbid it by decree," Lucius noted.
"If no one blabs, then he won't know about it. He doesn't preside over the Wizengamot, Lord Ogden does. And he has accepted it. And you know how much the bland old man gives to his neutrality. Dumbledore has no time for a decree if he enters the Wizengamot unprepared. After all, he needs the approval of Lord Ogden or at least two Department Heads to do so. And he won't get those together that quickly.
"I'm more worried about him talking to his flock through a speech. Losing this bill would prove fatal for him in the long run. At the moment, it allows him to create a new majority every time he loses it.
"But if he can no longer simply evict people from their ancestral seats, that will change. In the future, we will be able to decide for ourselves what we want for our country and no longer just what Dumbledore thinks we should want. I really hope he is so ill that he cannot attend the meeting. That would be ideal."
"Well, sick might be the wrong term," Lucius explained with a grin. "You remember the media frenzy when Riddle claimed he killed Dumbledore? The situation is probably comparable."
"Your ominous sources told you that?" replied Blishwick with interest. "What did you hear happened?"
"Apparently he was present at the break-in of his breeding facility himself. He got into a fight with Riddle's men, according to the rumours - and lost," Lucius said with satisfaction. "Apparently our newest renegade has proven himself to be very capable."
At this, Blishwick nodded. A thoughtful expression crept onto his face as he said, "It fits with what I've heard from the Aurors."
"Oh? What are they saying?" asked Lucius, not betraying his almost hungry curiosity. He didn't have good contacts among the Aurors. They politely avoided him at best and at worst screwed up their faces or insulted him in barely concealed ways.
"They extracted the memories of Dumbledore's minions and analysed the defenders of the village in addition to a general assessment of the situation," Blishwick elaborated. "In particular, the person in the sad mask, whom Riddle's minions called Grief, must have been outstandingly talented. I'm sure you've been told of it being the one who slew your brother. He also killed Black.
"He alone was able to overcome the limitations of combat dictated by the goblin armour. They rumour that this Grief must be the same person who caused that disturbance in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago. In other words, the suspected Potter bastard. James Potter, of course, denies having fathered any child other than his criminal bundle of it wouldn't be the first time someone tried to save their skin by denying it."
The mention of his brother filled him with undefined feelings. Bitterness, perhaps, with a touch of completely inappropriate schadenfreude. He had loathed his brother as a person. But even more he had hated what he represented to Lucius: his father's valid primary heir. Titus was a squanderer and a braggart. Under his financial guidance, if it could be called that, their house would probably soon have been in line with the Gaunts and the Weasleys.
Of course, he had still been his brother and it pained him that there would now be no way to bury the quarrels between them. It was absurd to think that this would ever have happened, though, had he survived. They were both too stubborn and Titus too much of an arsehole to even dream it up. But it had been a nice thing to dream about reconciliation.
"A coercive link doesn't quite occur to me," Lucius replied, frowning in reference to the involvement of the dubious Mr. James. He knew it was true, of course. But it was still quite a mental leap for an outsider to connect these two events.
Blishwick laughed cheerfully before saying, "You know aurors: they think they're very clever when they grasp simple connections. When a new, capable player is on the field, any unexpected turn of events is naturally attributed to him. And if your information about the Menagerie is really true, they certainly know about it in vague terms.
It is quite noticeable that since this man has appeared, something unexpected has been happening at every turn. He could be a dynamic element that Dumbledore simply did not expect. Of course, all three cases could be completely unconnected in reality. But I personally wouldn't bet on that."
After a brief companionable silence, Lucius resumed the previous topic: "Who else is on our side besides Cairns and Wood?"
"As always, they wish to remain anonymous. The benefits of a secret ballot. However, in addition to the promised nine, we can certainly count on Lord Fawley. He loves his daughter dearly and will certainly see to it that her darling boy comes through the trial unscathed. Perhaps he will mobilise others for the cause.
"Lord Weasley is also a possibility. After all, his brother's descendants are the last of his clan after him and I think they have a good relationship with each other. Lady Avery, on the other hand, we can leave aside, she doesn't give a damn about her granddaughter.
"But that brings me to the reason I called you here today. I have a job for you. With our much-loved joker Sirius Black kicking the bucket, Regulus is next in line to take the Blacks' seat in the Wizengamot. But after his youthful escapades, we have heard little of him.
"Rumour has it that his mind has been permanently damaged by this pernicious procedure. I want you to find out more and maybe even promote our cause to him. Try to size him up. If he is a fanatic, explain that he can thus obtain lenient punishments for his comrades-in-arms. If he is reasonable against all odds, convince him of the merits of a functional parliament that does not depend on the will of one sole tyrant."
Lucius was naturally the logical choice for this task. After all, he was married to a member of the house and consequently had more points of contact with the younger man. On the other hand, Narcissa had also not heard from him since the trial. Sirius, who was not normally known for being particularly rule-abiding, did not allow anyone into their ancestral home. He had always stressed the conditions Regulus was under in his recovery, which did not allow visitors. However, there was no official measure laid down by the ministry that required this. That this was another of Dumbledore's games was considered more likely by Lucius.
"And what am I supposed to do if he really isn't all there in the head? Next in the line of succession for the seat in the Wizengamot would have to be Cygnus Black. And that one I know well enough to say he certainly wouldn't welcome me into his house," Lucius stated matter-of-factly.
Blishwick replied impassively: "We must try. If all goes according to the protocol, he will assume his place in the Wizengamot before our plan is put to the vote. It would be negligent not to try to integrate him into our faction.
"If he really is confused, Cygnus must first challenge his sanity, and he can't apply for that until the next meeting at the earliest. This would eliminate the Blacks' vote for the time being. That is also an acceptable outcome.
"I expect two things from you: firstly, you should find out whether he wants to take office at all, and secondly, if he does, then try to convince him to vote in our favour. We don't know how successful his so-called recovery from Riddle's ideology has been, but I doubt they would virtually lock him away if he had allowed himself to be bent."
Lucius finally stood up, nodding, and said as he went to the door of Blishwick's office: "I will try to clear up this mystery. I'll report back on my success in the usual way. For I assume you still have work to do."
"Do that," ordered his old school friend. "I still have to deal with a few of our independent friends now and convince them to make the right decision. You'd think there wouldn't be much to think about, but they're dithering as usual."
The usual way, meanwhile, was quite banally a vial of auditory memory via owl mail. Outsiders could usually do quite little with this substance, as it required a special enchanted device to play it. Blishwick might not be an outstanding wizard, but he was shrewd.
Even back at Hogwarts, he had taken a keen interest in obsolete magic, which no one expected to be used today and thus offered a not inconsiderable advantage. Blishwick, by his own admission, had bought up all the voicebowls that still existed. If anyone looked at the special shaped memories required for this in a normal pensieve, all they would see was confused glowing and flashing. Lucius didn't know why that was, but for their purposes the objects were perfectly suited.
As Lucius left the room he literally felt the room's extensive Wards burst. Lucius had brought in three different Ward masters from different European countries to make them. With British creators of such protective magic, one never knew whether they were in cahoots with Dumbledore.
The way they were designed now, only Blishwick could activate and deactivate them. It had the disadvantage, however, that it could not be fed via the Ministry's natural ambient magic, as that would have required the Ministry's approval and thus would have drawn attention to it that they could well do without. So instead Blishwick had to accept physical depletion when he activated the magical secrecy.
Much of magical Britain was so cumbersome. After all, even a loyal follower of Dumbledore had to fear surveillance. And more or less open dissenters like the members and staff of the moderate or even the small progressive faction had to fear worse. This applied not only to spying on any misconduct, but also to finding useful character flaws.
Many players in the Ministry were corruptible, especially if they came from poorer houses. Sometimes Lucius wished he himself could do more in this regard to steer the ministry in the right direction. But as long as his father continued to prove spry and stubborn, his access to larger funds was blocked. Sure his monthly allowances would increase now that Titus was dead, but even together with his salary he didn't really have enough to buy the cooperation of others.
Of course, it wasn't just about the money itself, but rather the perceived power he would possess in the eyes of others. He would then appear not like a supplicant but like a gracious patron lending an ear to his charges. Unfortunately, he was far from that dream. He was seen as the silver-tongued right-hand man of Blishwick and nothing more.
But as much as he was driven to greater prominence, his own family was more important to him. For although it was not Dumbledore's modus operandi, if he could not eliminate persons by other means, he threatened to have something done to the families of his enemies as well. And that was why he did not complain too loudly about his position in the background of events.
With an impassive expression, Lucius went first to the lifts and then to the atrium. The creation of portals was only possible for ordinary employees in the Ministry through the atrium. Only Aurors and Obliviators had the greater authority. However, in the case of a dire emergency, the Chair of Magical Law Enforcement, the Minister or the Speaker of the Wizengamot could lift this restriction. Officially, it was said to be for the protection of staff.
And perhaps that was partly true, but the rule also made it easier to document exactly when who was in the ministry and for how long. This information was not dangerous per se. But if you looked closely, you might see patterns. Who left together? Did someone always leave early, or always leave late? Did a person's behaviour suddenly deviate from what was known?
Careful people like Lucius, who realised what they might be revealing, had only two options: Either be completely erratic or arrive and depart absolutely regularly. For Lucius, the former was probably true, but that was less a carefully chosen behaviour than a consequence of his job. He undertook many unofficial parleys for Blishwick.
Once in the atrium, he opened a portal directly to the front door of the London residence of House Black. He had always thought this place a strange ancestral home for a very traditionalist family who generally hated Muggles. He closed his portal and knocked twice on the door of 12 Grimmauld Place.
It opened without there appearing to be any recognisable person behind it. He entered and found himself in a very gloomy corridor. The lamps on the wall were dark. As the door closed again dully behind him, a deep, croaking voice rose: "What does the stranger want in the noble and most ancient House of Black? Kreacher does not know the golden-haired wizard."
Lucius startled, but quickly regained his composure. With the corners of his mouth contorted, he turned to the ugly creature standing next to him. He had never liked house-elves much, for he did not trust their submissiveness. His wife had brought a younger house-elf into his household and Lucius watched its actions quite closely. Especially since the creature apparently didn't like him either.
The house-elf next to him was ancient. And he had never seen him before. That was a little strange, since he had occasionally been here on behalf of his wife, asking for permission to visit at irregular intervals. But at that time, a family member had always turned away guests.
First the very unpleasant Walburga Black, later the no less brusque Cassiopeia, and most recently no one else, unless Sirius was at home, who always refused him as well. That at least spoke for the fact that Regulus was now indeed the master of the house. No one seemed to be guarding him any more, as seemed to have been the case before.
"My name is Lucius Malfoy. I am here on behalf of Lord Rowan Blishwick to discuss important matters of the Wizengamot with your master, Regulus Black," Lucius explained, unable to prevent some of his disdain from flowing into his voice. "Take me to him, servant."
"No, young Master Malfoy will be waiting in the Parlour. If Master Regulus wishes to see him, he will seek him out, otherwise Kreacher will send him away again. Oh, how Kreacher would love to do that," the house-elf grumbled and plodded away. Lucius followed him, eyeing the so appropriately named creature suspiciously. Calling him a young master was obviously an insult; after all, he was 42 years old.
He followed the house elf into a surprisingly barren room. A table and four chairs, that was all there was. The windows showed a stunted, withered garden. Not even the quality of the furniture bore witness to the Blacks' usual ostentatious style. And he knew it quite well from the lavish country estate Sirius Black actually used as a home.
As he took a seat on one of the plain chairs, he wondered what would happen to this mansion now. Would Regulus leave this apparently increasingly decaying house and choose the much more splendid one? Lucius certainly would. Living so close to the Muggles was not a pleasant notion.
Even though he knew they were far from the filthy and dimwitted creatures they had been described to him as in his childhood, he wanted nothing to do with them. Muggles were weird in a negative way and he just felt uncomfortable around them. He had been to Slytherin's Burden occasionally and what cultural tastelessness he had seen there was already enough for him.
Clothes as if belonging to peasants. A denial of their own traditional magical festivals and at the same time the building of churches. Christian churches! He had been stunned at the time that a true witch or wizard would follow the beliefs of their worst enemies, even in a superficial way. There were three of these shameful temples in the village.
Fortunately, not few of the Mudbloods were irritated by this development as well. This, at least, kept his faith in their usability in a reformed magical society at a certain level. It was good to know that even some of the Mudbloods understood that they were obviously the superior kind of people who could not follow a religion that relegated them to be lowly malevolent beings.
When a young, scrawny man entered the room, Lucius was pulled out of his musings. His complexion was unhealthily pale and his gaze somehow blank. The clothes he wore were far too casual for a formal conversation. Regulus was not even wearing a cloak.
In a tired, low voice, his host asked, "What can I do for you, Lord Malfoy?"
This already told him that the young man was not really informed in depth politically. Not unkindly, Lucius pointed out his error to Regulus, "I am not a Lord of the Wizengamot. Though of course I am pleased that you willingly think me one. However, I am here at the behest of Lord Rowan Blishwick. But before we get to that, let me first express my sincere condolences. You, like me, lost your brother in that skirmish.
I can't say I knew Sirius Black particularly well. But he was - in his own way - an honourable man who carried out his duties in the Wizengamot as is expected of the head of such an ancient house - despite his distaste for what he called this political arse-kissing."
"Our relationship was never close," Regulus explained curtly, staring through the window at the desolate landscape. "A little better than it used to be, perhaps."
Lucius had to pause at this statement. Cautiously he asked, "I thought the so-called procedure, had taken away all memories of your old life?"
"My old life, huh?" his counterpart muttered. "Perhaps you could call it that."
Before Lucius could probe further, Regulus averted his gaze from the window and eyed him urgently as he asked in a cool voice, "What are you doing here Mr. Malfoy? I have plenty of time, but I'd rather waste it on other things."
"The moderate faction of the Wizengamot is interested in welcoming you into their ranks. It would be a great statement for us to have a member of a venerable house helping to represent our agenda. Especially for the next session, we can use all the votes we can get," Lucius stated calmly, though it was not lost on him that the man was avoiding explaining his apparently non-existent memory loss.
"Then why did they send you if you're just some kind of flunky?", Regulus wanted to know and his gaze seemed to become even more focused.
"I thought that was obvious," Lucius wondered. "You remember your distant cousin Narcissa? She is my wife. Lord Blishwick apparently believed that this connection would indicate that I harbour no ill intentions. Narcissa will be pleased that she may now finally visit you."
At this, Regulus blinked in confusion at first and then replied: "That makes some sense. Of the three, I always liked Cissa best. Andi and Bella were always quite dismissive and mean to me when we were kids. That also explains how I know your name. How is she?"
"I would like to think quite well. She's really thriving in her role as mother to our three children. Draco, Lyra and Pleroma are our pride and joy," Lucius said with genuine warmth in his voice.
"Pleroma?" asked Regulus, frowning. "An unusual name. I recognise the Black influence in Draco and Lyra, though."
"My mother's name. Plorma Jacquinot, later Malfoy, of course. After my father had so strictly forbidden me to give Draco his name Abraxas, at least as a middle name, so at least I could call my second daughter Pleroma. He still grumbled, but he could hardly deny me honouring my dead mother."
"I feel like I'm missing context here," Regulus replied, looking rather lost.
Lucius smiled and explained, "My grandparents were members of an informal gnostic coven and naturally gave their children names that vaguely corresponded to that belief. They got to know each other better over their common dislike of these names. Later they quite amicably accepted their arranged union and swore to give their children sensible names.
"Titus, Lucius and Aurelius. Although I know there were mages with these names, I have always perceived them as quite muggle-like. I much prefer the old custom of bestowing names with meaning, like the ones of House Black. Both Abraxas and Pleroma convey quite positive concepts that correspond with perfection and fulfilment.
"I don't approve of my grandparents' religious aberrations, not that we misunderstand each other on that, but I would have liked to continue their new naming tradition. Unfortunately, Narcissa was just as unenthusiastic about it as my father. And even with Pleroma, she insisted on a proper Bellatrix as a middle name.
"But in the end, a name is just a name. More important, of course, is who the person behind it is. I'm sure if you met my children, you would find them as enchanting as me and Narcissa. And I'm sure my wife would be very happy to see you again. After all, she has been sending me to Grimmauld Place on and off over the years to finally reconnect. I hope your jailers had made you aware of my visits."
Lucius hoped to get the young man to open up a little more about his rather familial statements. Regulus finally sat down and Lucius felt that he might even have achieved his goal. His host was now staring out of the window again with a vacant gaze, lost in thought.
"Sirius often mentioned that he had to turn someone away," he finally said. "But who that was in detail always remained unclear to me. They wanted to isolate me to avoid so-called relapses. So to have contact only with people they could control. Tell Narcissa that I would be happy to see her again and to meet my nieces and nephew."
Regulus tore his gaze away again from the graveyard of a garden and eyed Lucius with a look that was both cautious and suspicious. Warily, Regulus asked, "But that's not really why you're here, is it? What is this so urgent vote about? Does your master want us to further torment those who are to be oppressed? Do you want us to further marginalise those who are to be disadvantaged?
And thereby show how great and powerful we Pure-bloods are? I am very tired of these things. Over a decade of the same theme. I can't hear it anymore."
Lucius' left eyebrow rose involuntarily. His questions made it clear to Lucius that one of two things had to be true. Either Regulus was still a follower of Riddle, and if only in spirit, or he was trying to lure Lucius into a trap. But Lucius would not be in this business if he could not handle such things with aplomb. It was advantageous here that his answer was probably not what Regulus would expect in the first instance.
"None of these implications are really true. Lord Blishwick and his comrades, on the contrary, want to banish a great arbitrary disadvantage of mixed blood from our society. Does the Parliamentary Prerogative of Pure Composition mean anything to you? It is sometimes rather unseemly called the mud scraper."
"I've heard the second one before," Regulus replied with narrowed eyes. "But why would a follower of this state be against something that is so much in line with its foundations? If descendants of Muggles have bad blood, it only makes sense to exclude them from important votes, doesn't it?"
"Realistically speaking, every family has a Muggle somewhere in their family tree if you just look hard enough - even the House of Blacks. Thus, if the paradigm of superior Pure-bloods is still accepted as truth, it is unseemly to make an exclusion so arbitrary.
"After all, in the past, people were only expelled from the Wizengamot if they had become disagreeable to those who claimed that the traditions meant something to them. And that in turn contradicts the purpose of the Wizengamot as a self-governing body and forum for all the significant and noble sections of our society. Exclusion from the ranks of the ladies and lords has always been purely politically motivated.
"And we want to change that. Such a law gives an arbitrary majority the power to dispose of any political enemies and replace them with allies. Dumbledore has been careful about this, keeping these acts of injustice on a small scale. But what will happen if a greater fool in that faction seizes power? It would lead our society into open civil war."
At the mention of Dumbledore, the corner of Regulus' mouth twisted downwards. Bitterly, he interjected, "That's it? An uprising of dwarves from within, against the rule of giants? He'll find other ways to get you back on track. He always has. Even if you get your way on this one."
"I think we all have to learn to overcome his myth. Over the years he has become bigger in our eyes than he really is. He may be a powerful wizard, but ultimately even he cannot rule for us alone. He needs us," Lucius replied passionately. "For he does not want to be a tyrant, but like a just king who rules in agreement with his subjects.
"And so he can only use what is already there. The Moderate Faction is working to dismantle this larger-than-life statue of Dumbledore. We want real peace in society. Because someone who employs an aggressive, paramilitary force is obviously incapable of that."
Regulus looked at Lucius sadly at this with the corners of his mouth raised mildly. After a brief shake of his head, the younger man replied, "Even his enemies underestimate him - and his true intentions."
"His true intentions? What are those supposed to be?" asked Lucius in puzzlement. He disliked that Regulus apparently thought Lucius was the naïve enthusiast of the two. After all, it was Regulus who had run into an obvious Ministry trap with his fellow soldiers - albeit on Riddle's instructions. As it appeared to Lucius, Regulus, in his isolation after his seven years in Azkaban, had forgotten how far he was alienated from reality.
"Maybe you need some distance to see it. But really, it's obvious. Dumbledore doesn't hate descendants of Muggles. No, he wants to see them win."
"Where do you come up with this nonsense?" asked Lucius, irritated. "Every agenda Dumbledore has pursued throughout his career has been designed to reinforce privilege and exacerbate disadvantage. Perpetuating the status quo is all he wants."
"It would be easier to believe that. But it doesn't make sense," Regulus replied, slowly running both hands through his dull, unkempt, long hair, mildly streaked with grey. "Dumbledore believes in a world run by the drive for strength. Whoever holds power must have been given it for a reason, or he would never have gained it. But we know that from adversity comes strength and from stagnation comes weakness.
"While our aristocrats bask in idle complacency, the lower ones struggle with almost insurmountable difficulties. Only they can truly grow and develop greatness. That is why Dumbledore does not extinguish them. And he could if he wanted to. The Order of Walpurgis serves solely to maintain this siege, this incubation of power. Eventually they will be more formidable than their enemies, first destroying them and then replacing them."
To Lucius it really sounded as if the younger man had got himself caught up in a fixed idea. A possible but unlikely interpretation. Regulus sought rigid mental order where there was none. Even a man like Dumbledore was blind to the inconsistencies of his own worldview. Politics was always full of contradictions of this kind. The dichotomy between what was intended and what ultimately emerged.
"Forgive me if I put it this way, but your continued sympathy for the Mudbloods is now laid bare for me. And I wonder how that is possible. We have been told that your memories have been completely erased," Lucius inquired for the second time now. But this time he expected to give an answer. Some knot had burst and Regulus' reluctance shattered. Had his retelling of the faction line convinced him that Lucius was on his side? Lucius hoped so.
"I've been dwelling in this house since the verdict was passed," Regulus explained with a mirthless, vacant smile. "I have not even been to Azkaban, as I should have been with my brothers in arms. No. My family could not bear the thought. The shame of it.
"So they made a deal, probably using a lot of money to indirectly fund some new project of Dumbledore's. I was never allowed to leave the house, of course, as long as there was someone who knew about it. Effectively, I was under house arrest. But now they're all dead. And I have quite a lot of this so-called freedom now and I don't know what to do with it anymore."
"I can't imagine that someone like Walburga Black would have allowed a son who followed a widely known terrorist to remain affiliated with him," Lucius replied sceptically.
"My mother was a harsh woman," Regulus agreed with him, closing his eyes for a moment. "They tried. To reshape me. Gently at first with so-called tutors who were supposed to teach me the right way to think. They failed, of course. Then came the Suggestion Potions they stirred into my food. It would probably have worked if dear Kreacher hadn't informed me about it. So I was able to take countermeasures. I suffer from these to this day. It seems that there are lasting interactions between these potions and Dispassion Curses."
Lucius had never heard of this. But he knew well that Dispassion Curses were usually used to make victims fall into complete apathy. They invariably died after a while if the curse was used repetitively, as they no longer cared about food and fluid intake or avoiding danger.
"A strange countermeasure," Lucius remarked.
"It was the only one I could use without them possibly figuring it out," Regulus said impassively. "They let me brew potions occasionally. They gave me back my wand for that. In the process, I kept casting the curse on myself.
"In that state, suggestions can't take hold, they bounce off. Eventually they gave up trying and I thought I would continue playing this role for a little while longer. But then at some point I realised that some of the apathy had stayed with me. My previously favourite foods taste like ashes and books that previously made my heart swell now feel like dull ramblings."
"I'm surprised you're telling me this so openly," Lucius wondered. "I am not your enemy and I will not tell anyone about this. But it is dangerous. Other people would use this knowledge as leverage against you and perhaps try to enforce that you receive your punishment as intended."
"The cards suggested you were an ally of Riddle's, but I wasn't sure," the man replied. Lucius had to wrestle with himself here, keeping the open scepticism he felt off his face.
Divination was, of course, a traditional and respectable form of magic - but usually also very inaccurate. Especially the search for knowledge about the future was so notoriously prone to drastic misinterpretations that it was usually better to do without.
Cautiously, Lucius asked, "How can a deck of tarot cards express allegiance to a specific person? My understanding of this art is unfortunately very limited. But to the best of my knowledge, card-reading can only capture the crudest currents of the future."
At this, the younger man nodded something like faint sincere joy crept onto his face, albeit very briefly. He explained, "There are many ways to use the cards as a tool for divination. The traditional interpretation is usually very personal. What I use is a technique taught by only a few masters of their craft. Each card of the Major Arcana, which is commonly used solely for this purpose, can symbolise a person whom the seeker of truth understands to be their epitome."
At this point he smiled briefly and continued, "The Devil, for instance, represents Dumbledore. The Hierophant stands for Riddle, my brother was the Strength. Lately, the Star has also been appearing frequently, but I'm not yet sure who it stands for.
"When Kreacher told me of your arrival, I laid the cards. The first for the visitor himself, the second for his master and the third for the reason for his visit. The Magician, the Hierophant and the Hanged Man. An able intermediary was sent by a powerful, sincere believer to change my perspective.
"Of course, the Hierophant doesn't have to stand in for Riddle. There's always a bit of uncertainty. But I think in this case it applies, because you don't seem disgusted by the idea. And only a sympathiser would be able to bear the thought of being mistaken for a stooge of the most wanted terrorists in this country."
"So I'm the epitome of a wizard?" asked Lucius with a smirk. It was a vaguely flattering notion. However, it didn't change the fact that there was always something creepy about fortune-telling when it nailed a situation so well.
"No, to be able to say that, I would have to establish an accumulation between the appearance of the card and a match with you. That is far from being the case yet. You are merely fulfilling the role today. Perhaps today the Hierophant also stands for your worldly master.
"Well, I do not know Lord Blishwick. But I do not believe that an ordinary politician like him can fulfil the role of the Hierophant. After all, they are mostly opinionless opportunists who represent what advances them."
"I see you share your brother's disdain for politics," Lucius replied, unsure how to convince someone like Regulus to participate in the faction. "I can assure you to the contrary that our faction is not only interested in power. Our goals are genuine and necessary for the peace of society."
"It will come one way or another. The path of history is already preordained," Regulus said disinterestedly. "By Riddle, by Dumbledore, and perhaps by your faction. You work together like the ingredients of a potion that can only have one effect. The breaking of the chains and the rise of the oppressed to new leading class."
Lucius felt the desire to hide his face in his hands out of frustration, but suppressed it and asked, "But that doesn't argue against joining in and furthering the brewing process.
And one should not forget that potions have the property of exploding if one does not follow a special recipe. And for reality, that can only come in the form of activity. So it's not okay to sit back and bask in the fatalistic hope that what has to come will come anyway.
Maybe your curse has a stronger grip on you than you think. A development is not inevitable if no one does anything to promote it. Your little prophecy may ensure that it can never happen. It could be your voice that helps us win."
"Perhaps you are right," Regulus declared. "But it could also be my action that temporarily gives the false order greater stability and thus delays the upheaval. I will think about it. Should I choose to act you will not see me taking a seat in the Wizengamot for any faction.
"It is too early for that. But I suspect joining the progressives would raise doubts about the effectiveness of my procedure. And they wouldn't trust me anyway, just as Riddle's people will never trust me again. So that leaves the moderates or independence."
"It would disappoint us, of course, if you decided against us for the time being, but I think it would be understandable to the faction that you can't commit yourself yet," Lucius replied with some hope in his heart that the younger man would accept his invitation anyway. "All that matters is that there is further sawing at Dumbledore's throne. And you can contribute to that."
Regulus nodded and rose. In a gentle voice he said, "You have presented your case. I would be happy to have your family visit me here. Perhaps next weekend? Would that be all right?"
"I think Narcissa will want to come here as soon as she hears about this."
"Please, no unannounced visits. I'm having a hard time dealing with other people these days. I need time to prepare myself," the younger man explained, looking as if a shiver ran down his spine at the mere thought. "That's why I'm asking you to leave now. I mean no offence but my patience for interpersonal interactions has been exhausted. Kreacher will show you out."
With this, Regulus turned his attention to the window, to which he made his way and stared out of it with his arms propped up on the ledge, unfocused. After a brief moment of irritation at this abrupt cut, Lucius said words of farewell and followed the already agitated and impatiently waiting house elf out of the house.
He would have to warn Narcissa not to be too open-hearted with this man. He seemed broken and fatalistic to he had left in his isolation was his belief in an inevitable social progress that would happen with or without his help.
All he had left in his isolation was his belief in an inevitable social progress that would happen with or without his help.
Also, the latter was right that the Fellowship of the White Sun would not welcome him back. He could be a sleeper agent. Lucius could not rule out this possibility even after this conversation. However, his intuition told him that he was simply a lost soul. Someone without a real home.
It was the result of his unmasking. Lucius would give anything to perpetually avoid that outcome for himself. He was a Malfoy. And as such, he would find profit no matter which side won. Even his grandfather had still found tremendous economic success after his ejection from the Wizengamot. It was in their blood to swim on top, even if the waves of existence tried to drown them.