Chapter Twenty-one
"You're late," was the stern reprimand that greeted her as she entered the room.
Biting back the sharp retort that formed on her tongue, Alex reminded herself that she was a servant in an aristocratic household. "Beg your pardon, Milord," she replied, feeling a bit strange at the sound of someone else's voice coming from her mouth. Of course, she reminded herself, the perfectly pouting mouth wasn't hers, either--- unfortunately.
Still adjusting to the new height, she attempted to sashay across the room, but wound up looking like a drunk fighting to keep her feet. Combating the heat that rose to her face as Malfoy leered, she placed his dinner in front of him, thanking her good fortune that the table had been previously set. She would never have remembered what fork went where. She allowed herself to hover for just a moment as his gaze passed appreciatively over her hips and slid down her shapely legs. After all, distraction could only help her, now.
Turning to serve the younger Malfoy and getting her first look at him, she was immediately struck by how similar they were. This was definitely carefully-planned genetics. From his lovely pale hair to his angelic complexion, he was the spitting image of his father, a pure-blood Malfoy. When he sneered at her curious look, she knew he was his father's son, through and through. It was almost cute, like being growled at by a tiger cub. The lustful gaze he directed at her as she served him however was anything but welcome. Knock it off, kid. I'm almost old enough to be your mother, she thought. Trying to hide the tremble in her hands, she placed his pumpkin juice down at last, and backed away as if from a poisonous snake. There was no turning back now, she realized. For better or worse, in a few minutes it would all be over.
Taking the tray, she stepped back further as they began to eat while chatting amiably. Hoping that it was customary to stay until she was needed, she backed inconspicuously to the wall. They talked of simple things, casually, just as any father and son would. Lucius was a bit more stern than her own father had been, but that wasn't unexpected. It was obvious as they discussed Draco's interest in potions that the father was proud of his boy's intelligence, quizzing him on ingredients and, not surprisingly, poisons and their antidotes. How synchronistic, she thought, heart pounding in her ears. In that moment, Draco took a long gulp of the tainted pumpkin juice, nearly draining the glass. Alex winced. I'm so sorry, kid.
Immediately, the boy began to choke, lightly at first, then more violently, his body shuddering from the pain she knew the potion caused. Lucius was at his side in a heartbeat, calling his name and checking his eyes. What he saw there caused him to give way to a rare moment of panic, wild eyes searching frantically for his wand, which had curiously disappeared, while he tried to reassure his son. "It's alright, Draco. Stay calm. I'll summon a medi-wizard."
Wide eyes landed on their prize, his snake-headed wand--- swinging from the hand of Alex Borgin. She was forced to admit to herself that it was a great pleasure to see the egotistical terror speechless, even at the expense of his son's comfort. "Hello, Lucius," she said, holding up the small bottle of green liquid with a regretful smile.
"Damn you, woman! What have you done to him?" With terrifying speed, Lucius rounded the table, and was almost on top of her before she could react. Making sure that he saw the motion, she drew back the bottle as if to throw it while stepping back from the furious wizard, putting as much distance between them as the room would allow. "I doubt he can lick it from the wall, Lucius, and without it, he dies." He halted abruptly, eyes searching, looking for all the world as if he was judging the distance for a tackle. "Back up," she ordered as forcefully as she could manage.
The deadly wizard retreated a single step and lifted his hands ever so slightly, not in supplication, not in surrender, but close enough to both to make it obvious that he understood his position perfectly. Alex sighed inwardly. That would make things much easier.
The temptation to press her obvious advantage was strong, stronger than she cared to admit to herself. In that moment, she saw what she had passed up in deciding to turn away from the Death Eaters.
Power.
Power so intoxicating that she nearly reeled washed over her in a black wave. She could demand anything of Malfoy right now, anything whatsoever; his authority, his position, even his life. His love for his son, his greatest weakness, was clear in those gray eyes. He would grant her anything to save him. For half a breath, she teetered on the knife's edge, then placed her feet firmly on the other side. The power was tempting, but the price far exceeded it's value.
She dared not speak for fear of betraying the terror she felt. Murderous flames had ignited in those brilliant eyes, daring her to make a single mistake, as he returned to his son who was now curled on the floor, panting in agony. Wordlessly, she removed the scroll from her pocket and sent it sailing over the table to Lucius. Still holding his only child in his arms, he deftly snatched it from the air, popped the seal with dexterous fingers, and shook it open. Nimble hands, she admitted with an inward smile. You would've been good in bed, wouldn't you?
"What the hell is this?" he spat.
"Exactly what it looks like," she answered. "A contract, an insurance policy, if you will. Essentially, it renders you and your associates incapable of harming me, directly or indirectly, on pain of death, your death, specifically. Sign it, Lucius, and your son lives to see tomorrow." Her voice shook despite her firm will to keep it steady.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed in distrust. "You're bluffing."
Draco chose that moment to surge violently from his father's grasp, doubling over from the pain as the potion entered it's second stage, his face paling even further as he began sobbing into the ornate rug. Alex looked away for a moment, steeling her resolve.
"One way to find out, and we don't have long to wait," she responded as calmly as she could manage. "I'm no great hand at potions, Lucius. I have trouble adjusting ingredients according to the size of the subject, so I brewed that for a grown man; you, specifically. It's designed to cause death within a few minutes, but your son is much smaller than you are. He doesn't have that long."
She would not have thought that it was possible for him to look more furious. She was most certainly wrong. Murderous eyes turned feral, almost devoid of reason, filled only with a bloodlust that sent a thrill of terror down her spine. Turning her lead foot to the door, she prepared to run. This wasn't going to work. Any second now he was going to clear the table. She would never even have a chance to take the poison Severus has so kindly given her.
Steadying her nerve, she tried one last time. As she spoke, she willed her face into the cold mask that she seen Severus wear so many times. "If you think for an instant that I won't sacrifice the son of a monster for my own welfare, you're a poor judge of my character. You know I've killed before. I won't hesitate to do so again."
For a moment, Alex saw stubborn arrogance flare in his eyes, but it vanished in an instant when Draco cried out for him. The pain was getting intense, now, she knew; similar to a mild form of the cruciatus curse his father had used on her, and her tolerance for torturing an innocent child was rapidly waning. Come on, Lucius. Please! Finally, he rose from his son's side, contract in hand. Slamming it on the table with a snarl of rage and a stream of violent expletives, he produced a quill out of thin air and signed with a vengeance, snapping the quill on the last stroke.
It was done.
Alex nearly went limp with relief. The parchment was indestructible and the contract permanently binding. She'd used up all three favors owed her by an old and powerful acquaintance back home in the writing of that scroll. It was flawless. For Alex, the nightmare was over at last. Wanting nothing more than to rest, she collapsed into the nearest chair and tossed the antidote into Malfoy's waiting hand, watching in admiration as he used his considerable strength to hold the boy still while forcing the potion into his mouth.
With barely the strength to complete the task, she waved her wand as if it were a lead bar. "Accio, parchment," she whispered, picked it out of the air, deposited Malfoy's wand on the table, rose quietly, and casually strolled out of the dining room with a satisfied smile. There was nothing more to fear from Lucius Malfoy.
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Lucius heaved a great sigh of relief as his son's spasms lessened and the color began to return to his cheeks as the antidote worked within seconds to reverse the poison's effects. Leave it to Alexandria to uphold her end of the bargain. In the same situation, he would have given a fake antidote and allowed the lesson to sink in completely. As it was, her curious brand of honor had played into his favor. He let an uncharacteristic snort. At least something had. Damn that woman and whatever nasty twist of fate that spawned her. There was no way to play this to his own advantage. And, how was he going to explain this to Lord Voldemort? That contract was practically a death sentence! If he wasn't killed outright, then he would certainly be punished within an inch of his life. The thought froze his blood. He hadn't felt the wrath of the Dark Lord in a very long time.
Time enough to worry about that later, he thought as his son began to stir restlessly in his arms. As he looked down, eyes slightly more blue than his own met his gaze. "Father?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"Who was that?" he asked, typical Malfoy fury rising in his eyes already.
"An ex-associate, it would seem." Emphasis on the 'ex.' "I assume she'll see herself out." Lucius took his son's chin into his hand, turning his face this way and that, examining skin and eyes for any traces of remaining contaminate, and sighed when he found none. Still, he was no expert. A mediwizard should examine him just to be certain. "Can you stand?"
"Yes, father." He did so tentatively, testing his balance while supporting his weight with one hand on the massive dining table. "I could use a restorative, though."
Lucius favored him with a rare, warm smile, the one he reserved solely for his son, and slid a vial from a deep pocket. "Drink it carefully, Draco. It's quite powerful."
"Thank you, Father."
"You should sit down. I'm going to see what's become of that worthless maid, then I'll summon a mediwizard. I want to be certain that the poison didn't leave a residue."
"Yes, father."
Lucius, occupied with cautiously opening the kitchen door, failed to see his son drain the restorative in one greedy gulp. His eyes were searching, scanning for any evidence of the maid's whereabouts. Unfamiliar with the kitchen as he was, it took him a moment to see the room in detail. He cast about carefully. Appliances lined the left and front walls, sink on the right side, portable surface against the far wall. Ah. There. Almost hidden. The maid's foot. He was just stepping forward to examine it, hoping he wouldn't have the inconvenience of disposing of a corpse, when he heard the shout. Instantly, he swung around and ran for the room he had just left.
Draco was gone.
So was his snake-headed wand.
The hallway door was still swinging forward on well-oiled hinges.
Vividly, he recalled the look of fury on his son's face even as the antidote took effect. In typical, vindictive, Malfoy fashion, Draco had listened and understood, even through the haze of pain, that he was in no way bound by the contract his father had signed.
He had gone after his attacker.
More shouting from down the hall, wicked hexes from Draco, cries of fear from Alex, heavy crashes and banging as if the house was being torn apart by the two of them. Lucius burst through the door, adding his voice to the cacophonous choir. Proud as he was of his son's immediate pursuit of vengeance, he wasn't about to risk him again. There was no predicting what Alex would do if cornered.
Cursing himself silently for not having apparation inhibitors which didn't include him, he sped through the back foyer past broken vases, over decorative tables, and through scattered rose petals following the raised voices, and finally rounding the corner on a priceless sight. Somehow, Alex had gotten turned around on her way out and had wound up in the library. Had he not been so concerned for his son's safety, he would have laughed aloud.
There was Alex looking exceedingly panicked, hiding behind the overturned desk, shouting apologies, explanations, and streaming oaths at his son, intermittently throwing the items which had formerly occupied the desk, and dodging the vicious curses being thrown by Draco. Lucius allowed himself a swell of pride. The boy was all Malfoy, a deadly animal, more teeth than fur, more vengeance than honor, and as treacherous as his name suggested when incensed. My little dragon.
He was headed for his son, intent on dragging him from the room if he needed to when he saw the tiny pellets come raining down from behind the desk. Before he could reach his goal, the room was filled with a choking, burning fume. The sound of shattering glass followed shortly after, indicating that Alex had left courtesy of the window.
Thinking the ordeal to be over, he turned to collect Draco and just noticed the flitting silhouette which represented his son darting through the smoke and out the new exit, single-minded in his purpose. "Draco, get back here!" he shouted impotently. He knew what the boy was feeling, right now, the mindless rage that had driven him to attack, and the blood pounding in his ears likely drowned out every other sound. He'd have to get him back by force.
Alex would head directly for the front gate. Whomever had given her directions into the manor would also have informed her that the only apparation point within a circular mile was just beyond it. Luckily, she was going the long way. He could cut them off from the side entrance. Pounding through the manor at top speed, he reached his goal in under a minute, bursting through the door into the evening shadows just in time to see his son race past in pursuit of a curiously silent shadow.
Not even bothering to call out, he sped after him, hating to acknowledge how easily his son was outstripping him. He was younger and therefore faster, that he could excuse; but Alexandria was pulling ahead of both of them, rapid pace winning out over his son's long stride. As she approached the gate, she pulled something from her back pocket and brought it rapidly to bear. It didn't matter, unless she had a broom in those pockets, she'd never make it over the spikes.
With a cry that could have been one of her famous expletives (it was hard to tell) Alex leaped not at the gate, but the wall, scaling it as though she were some human-sized lizard. Draco had halted in his tracks and was taking aim with his father's wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he screamed.
It missed her by a mere heartbeat, reaching the place where her leg had been only an instant before and shattering the brick with the force of the spell. Draco released an uncharacteristic oath and threw his father's wand to the ground in disgust as the crack of an apparation spell split the air.
Lucius could only smile. My little dragon, he thought again.