"Virtue in the middle, said the Devil, when seated between two lawyers." (Proverb)
Lucius Malfoy sat at the large desk in his study facing his family advocatus Marcellus Tethering across several piles of parchments. A bright spring sun shone through the high gothic windows of the vaulted room and painted golden lancet patterns on the rich oak wood and the papers strewn across the table top. However the blond wizard looked rather grim.
The old lawyer frowned as he studied the piece of vellum that his client had just handed to him. Lucius waited for the man to finish reading and absent-mindedly brushed a piece of lint from his black velvet robes. The house-elves were obviously getting sloppy these days, he thought. He had to make an example of one of them, before the whole lot became really undisciplined.
Finally his guest looked up. "Mr. Malfoy, you are sure you want to do this? I can of course arrange it without any trouble in about – um, two days, shall we say? I have my contacts at Gringotts, as you undoubtedly know."
Lucius leant forward. "Look Tethering, you've been a loyal and capable servant of our family since the time of my father. You were instrumental in getting me off the hook last time the Ministry had me on charges of conspiracy with the Dark Lord. And as you seem to disapprove of the way I am ordering my affairs at this point, I will tell you this: things are going to come to a head any of these days. We are poised at the edge of a precipice, ready to conquer or to fall.
When we have made our move, I will be either in a position to truly show you how the Malfoys have always appreciated your help or be committed to Azkaban yet again, if not actually dead. At that point, the fate of my fortune will be uncertain at best. Should anything happen to me, follow your instructions to the letter. Contact her, and give her access to the possessions I have listed here." He indicated the parchment Tethering was holding.
"You know as well as I do that they constitute a very minute part of my fortune, but she will appreciate them in a way that no one else could. For all other portions of the Malfoy fortune, I want you to do everything in your power to preserve them either for me, should I be rehabilitated, or for my son. The Blacks will try to get their slimy claws on them, as Draco is still under age. This is not to happen – under any circumstances. Do you understand?"
The advocatus nodded and stroked his pointed grey beard for a minute while he considered. Then he folded up the document and hid it in his wide robes. "Of course I will act on your instructions, sir. Just one more question, Mr. Malfoy, if you do not think me too impertinent for asking. If things develop against you, how trustworthy is she? Would she be of help to us?"
Lucius sat up straight and laid his hands on his desk. "Tethering, you can trust her completely. You can also ask her help in anything concerning me and she will give the matter her full attention, with one exception: she will never aid the cause." He gave Tethering a searching glance that held a trace of impatience now. "Any other questions?" The older man shook his head. "None, sir. Everything shall be arranged as you wish. Let us hope I will never need to get in touch with her, sir." The blond wizard released the advocatus with a wave of his hand. "Yes, Tethering, let us hope," he said.
Lucius stared into the distance for a moment, where the gaunt shape of his lawyer had just disapparated, then got up with a sigh to make his way to the library. As he walked down the heavily carpeted hallway, he thought he heard voices from the main entrance hall, among them Narcissa's, and decided to investigate. As he descended the broad curved marble staircase he saw her in animated conversation with two burgundy-robed, distinguished looking wizards. She wore a stunning sea-green silk gown that he had not seen on her before, and that he estimated had cost at least around five-hundred galleons.
For a moment he compressed his lips. His wife was so wonderfully predictable. For example, she could always be trusted to spend Malfoy money with both hands. Quietly he approached, listening to the exchange. The visiting wizards both spoke with a very strong French accent, and Narcissa seemed to give them rather particular instructions regarding food. This should be interesting.
"My dear," he drawled to announce himself, and had the satisfaction to see her whirl around with a rather shocked expression on her pale porcelain features. Obviously she had not expected him to be at the manor. She cast a short, panicked glance at her companions, one he almost, but not quite missed, and then had herself perfectly under control again as she addressed him. "Lucius, darling, I am surprised to see you. I thought you had business elsewhere, Durmstrang perhaps?"
He smirked at the tiny barb as she dared to refer to his affair with Eleanor in public, then stepped up to her and lightly kissed her cheek. He felt her resistance as she wished but did not dare to pull away from him. She would do anything to avoid a scene before witnesses. "But you know dear, I would always rush back to your side as soon as I am able. So, will you introduce your visitors to me?" Narcissa cleared her throat. "These gentlemen work for the Luculle gourmet service in Lyon. They are helping me plan a little intimate dinner party for some of my dearest friends next Saturday."
Lucius arranged his features in a beatific smile, while inwardly he was seething. Luculle's was the most expensive caterer in the known wizarding world. If she was hell-bent on bankrupting him, he would try his damndest to get some mileage out of the situation. "How wonderful for you, my darling. What a clever plan. Just make sure, you invite Mrs. Fudge. You know how important her husband is."
Narcissa's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But my dearest Lucius, you know she is sooo boring," she whined. He broadened his smile, lifted her hand, took it in his in a seeming gesture of affection and squeezed until he saw her wince ever so slightly. "For me, my dear," he coaxed her, grey eyes perfectly glacial. "I will ask the Minister on Monday how she liked it. I am sure she will have been thrilled. You are such an incredible hostess."
The two Frenchmen smiled at this all-round display of bonhomie, and as Lucius regarded them in contempt at their gullibility, he saw one of them look up at the staircase. The blond wizard caught the tiniest shake of her head from his wife and turned only to see yet another visitor. A tall, well-built man in his late twenties bounced down the stairs. "There you are, dear," he called as he saw Narcissa. Half-hidden behind the broad pasty shape and baggy robes of one of the Luculle employees Lucius kept watching, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.
The younger wizard reminded Lucius of a large, over-eager dog. He had an open, trusting face, shoulder-long brown hair and hazel eyes and moved with the slightly clumsy expansiveness that usually comes form optimistic innocence. Not a bad sort, and probably quite inexhaustible, if a bit unadventurous in bed, Lucius thought. The lord of the manor could imagine him rearing up, placing his front paws on Narcissa's shoulders and happily licking her face like a huge Irish setter. He knew his wife's taste in men very well by now. She usually went for young, insecure, virile and handsome. This was getting better and better.
Lucius stepped out from behind the two catering wizards, so that the newcomer could finally recognize him and had the satisfaction to notice that the man almost petrified on the lowest step of the staircase. "More guests, my precious," he addressed Narcissa. "My, you are full of surprises this morning." He lifted his head towards the newcomer. "Young man," he called to him. "May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?" He relished watching the transformation from bounding puppy to whipped dog, as the wizard reluctantly approached.
Narcissa looked as if she had just swallowed a flubberworm, but he had to give her credit for keeping it together quite well, and he felt a brief spark of pride. Of course, she was no sniveling mudblood, so good control over her demeanor was to be expected. "Lucius, this is Ambrosius Greenleaf, my – lawyer. Ambrosius, this is my husband Lucius Malfoy," she announced curtly. "The gentlemen here are with the Luculle gourmet service." The younger wizard cast Narcissa a panicked glance and shuffled his feet as Lucius addressed him.
"Yes, you must be the youngest partner of Todd, Warren, Warren & Greenleaf in Diagon Alley. Very pleased to make your acquaintance. How long have you served my wife – in your capacity as advocatus?" The blond wizard watched his victim blush furiously. "Err, umm, for about three months," he confessed. "Three months, well, Narcissa, I hope we do not have any serious legal difficulties that I or the family advocatus should know about," Lucius asked his wife. She drew herself up and made a slight step to the side as if to protect the young man. "Hardly, my dear, they are small arrangements regarding the Black fortune."
'There's an oxymoron,' thought Lucius, picturing the run-down London town house at Grimmauld Place and the old decrepit rambling manor the Black family owned in Norfolk. "That's reassuring, my darling. Well," he turned back to the large hazel eyes that fixed on him as if he was a snake charming a rabbit.
"My dear advocatus Greenleaf, I am sure you will find my wife most gracious, she seldom denies her dearest guests anything, as you must surely know by now. Avail yourself of her favor while you can. And make sure not to wander the halls alone. Sadly, the manor holds many bad memories, and should you encounter some of its inhabitants on your own, why, I could not be held responsible for the consequences. However, let me assure you, they would be most dire, and quite regrettable in one so young and full of promise as yourself." He flashed his wife's lover a predatory grin, leaving no doubt which inhabitants he was referring to.
He faced his wife again. "Anyway, darling, must rush. So amuse yourself as best you can." He leaned in on her. "You are such a clever little minx, combining useful with handsome this time," he whispered, then kissed her again. He waved at the other men. "Messieurs, advocatus. I wish you a marvelous day." As he strode up the stairs he had the satisfaction to hear the one of the French wizards say to the other, "Quel mari agréeable, n'est pas?" He smirked and turned at the top of the stairs to walk back towards the library, robes billowing behind him.
As soon as he was out of sight of the visitors he clapped his hands. Immediately a house elf tumbled out of the wood paneling and prostrated himself. With a practiced move Lucius shoved the toe of his slipper underneath the belly of the creature and kicked it in a high arc before him, never slowing his pace. "It is time," he hissed, "we talked about the care of my robes, Nibbs. In the library, now! And bring your miserable little fellows along."
A little while later Lucius leant lazily against a tall bookshelf by one of the high, arched windows, wiping blood off the pale skin of his elegantly manicured hands with his silk handkerchief. He let is grey eyes travel over the carefully tended gardens of Malfoy Manor and watched the sun glint on the precisely clipped lawns. Springtime had finally arrived over the last few days. The bare hedges were covered in bursting purple buds and on the trees a faint green haze bore the promise of leaves. He allowed himself a small, genuine smile. After a long, miserable winter his affairs seemed to finally take a turn for the better.
The Dark Lord had changed his strategy and had decided to attack Potter not by using the boy's curiosity, which seemed non-existent at best, but through his ridiculous Gryffindor sense of heroism. And he, Lucius Malfoy had been instrumental in the change of plan by pointing out that the boy who lived had struck up a close relationship with Sirius Black.
He had told his master about the black dog that had accompanied Potter to the train station after Christmas and whom he had quickly identified as the proscribed animagus. And over the last few days Voldemort had finally come to his senses and had decided to lure Potter to the Ministry by suggesting to him that the Death Eaters held Narcissa's cousin captive. Of course the megalomaniac little brat would not be able to resist the bait and rush to the rescue.
Any day, any hour now, they would be called to arms and take in Potter and the damn prophecy in one fell swoop. Lucius tossed the bloodied handkerchief on the floor and after a last glance at the garden turned from the window. As he walked back between the shelves a familiar burning sensation on his arm alerted him. And for once he truly welcomed the pain as he prepared to apparate in the presence of his master. The time was ripe to reap their rewards.