Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part One : Into Every Life a Little Strain Must Fall
Chapter Nine : Just An Interlude

1 October 2003

"Well, well--what have we here?" Lucius drawled, looking at the plain cream stock envelope in his hands. The quality was superb, the seal on the back, while unfamiliar, was of the finest wax. He broke it open and sipped his coffee while perusing the contents, a small smile growing on his face. "Look, sweets, we have an invitation to a wedding reception."

Bethany Malfoy, looking up from her own mail, and with much practice, gauged her husband's mood about the invitation before replying. He seemed pleased and not in a good way. There was something about the feral gleam in his eyes, the studied insouciance of his pose while reading it that reminded her of a snake about to go after prey just a little too big for it, but it would be oh so fine if it succeeded. She decided to boldly test the waters. "Only the reception, my dear? Not the wedding as well?"

He laughed low in his throat, confirmation for her about his 'mood'--he was after someone. "No, my sweet--however, I am surprised we got even this. Severus must be slipping."

"Severus Snape?" she asked, intrigued despite herself. "Isn't he still living with Harry Potter at Hogwarts?"

"Very good, yes he is; this is an invitation to their wedding reception."

At 21 and enceinte with their second child, Bethany had little to do in her life but take care of Lucius and his house, raise his children, participate in the charities (both Wizard and Muggle) he deemed necessary, keep up with current events (for he expected her to be able to converse intelligently with his associates), and gossip. She loved to gossip (and was quite good at it). He would sometimes spend hours talking to her about the juicy bits she heard from the other bored ladies she met with every day. She knew when he was grilling her for information to which he had no access and so paid particular attention to the things he wanted and did her best to get them for him. Although she'd never met them, Severus Snape and Harry Potter were usually two of those things.

"Really? There hasn't been a breath of talk about it, although if the invitations are going out now, the Banns should have been published weeks ago. I can't imagine they would send out the invitations before the Banns. Oh well, I'm sure it will be the talk of the town," she said in her defence, thinking he might be upset he hadn't heard about it before.

"I think it may come as a bit of a shock to everyone, my dear. It's not often men in their position make this type of statement in public. He must be up to something--I cannot envision him going to this amount of trouble for himself and his intended without there being some kind of benefit. Not that he would impart that to me, in any event; we did not part on the best of terms." His chuckle made her swallow hard. So, as she'd always suspected, this was definitely one of his sworn enemies.

She decided nonchalance about the whole thing was her best course. "I see what you mean about the lack of wedding invitation, then. We are going?" she asked knowing now he would not pass up any opportunity to needle Snape. What she wasn't expecting was what he said next.

"Of course we will attend. Perhaps you would like a new robe for the affair," he told her looking over the table at her. His eyes narrowed, never a good sign. "In fact," his voice slowed, "I think I need to have a little bachelor party for our friends. Get their marriage off to a good start."

She didn't reply; she knew none was needed. She had her instructions--buy a new robe and stay out of it. She was only too pleased to do so. Seeing he was preoccupied with his mail again, she went back to her own, but she never read it, her mind turning.

After 3 years of her own marriage to Lucius Malfoy, Bethany had few illusions about him. He was not cruel, didn't beat her or anything like that--her father, Avery, would not have stood for it, but that did not mean he loved her, held her in any esteem, or was even particularly tender. He just wasn't cruel. To her that is. How he was to others was another matter all together and her loyalties were firm. The house-elves were a good example and she'd taken over them and their work shortly after their marriage if only to keep him away from the poor hapless creatures.

On this matter, his voice and the way he said it made her shiver. It did not bode well for this Snape and Potter.

3 October 2003

The pheasant was perfect, the potatoes a little under-cooked, the snapped beans done to a barely acceptable standard; the rest was unmemorable if not unpalatable. 'I really must speak to the new house-elves about the potatoes and beans. They are very lucky he is so sated this evening or there would be complaints.' She ate a bit of her beans and noted he was particularly relaxed this evening; it seemed that the new girl she had obtained for him was pleasing him well enough. The only indication she ever got was when he would brusquely tell her to get a new one. This dalliance, Natalie, had lasted quite a while, so far.

Odd thing that--her father had explained it to her before she was married; while she was expected to be faithful, she could not expect to be able to fill all of her husband's needs and therefore, should he wish it, she was to arrange for 'partners' for him or 'toys' as she liked to call them. And she was to keep quiet about it.

At first this had rankled; she enjoyed sex with him when he wasn't in a hurry. When he noticed it, he'd come home more often and his requests for toys lessened. Really, he was quite considerate in that regard. Whenever he got in one of his "moods", the ones she didn't like, she could usually see it coming and would order him a toy from any number of services available for that sort of thing; evidently the practice was fairly well accepted. He'd come home better for it and never seemed to mind her presumption in this matter as long as she didn't turn him down when he wanted her.

When she'd got pregnant, he'd still visited her chamber, perhaps not as often, but still enough to satisfy; however, when she'd started showing, he insisted on no congress. However, once the first child, a girl, was born and she'd regained her figure, he started visiting her chamber regularly again, needing only a few toys for his "moods" now and again. Now she was showing hugely, so she had to find him toys on regular basis--liked his sex every day, he did.

"New house-elves again, my dear?" he asked taking a bite of the potatoes.

She almost panicked and then realised of course he would ask that, he was the reason she had been down two. She still didn't know how he did it; they were supposed to be indestructible. "Yes, love. Actually, I got three this time. You know, to have a spare handy in case you break one again."

At first she thought she'd said the wrong thing with the piercing eye he turned on her, but his huge laugh, his white teeth flashing told her he was pleasantly amused. "I promise, sweets, I'll try to only 'break' them one at a time."

"Thank you. They are somewhat difficult to obtain." She forked a piece of spiced potato in her mouth and winced at the slight crunch.

"Tell me, sweets, what have you heard about the up-coming nuptials of our friends?" He took a sip of his wine.

She knew what he wanted--all the gossip about the invitations, but she was surprised he asked this quickly knowing she'd only had two days to gather information for him. And why does he always ask me these things right after I take a bite to eat?' She swallowed before replying, "There is much speculation, but very little fact at this point."

"What are the facts, then?" he asked, sitting forward.

'And why are you so eager to know so soon?' she thought before answering, "Well, the only thing anyone knows is that the Banns were published somewhere in the United States. Where, exactly, no one can find out. The Department of International Magical Cooperation is run by one of Weasley's lackeys and locked up tighter than a drum. They say security in the issue is quite tight. However, as speculation goes, it has to be somewhere they are well known or else the Banns could not be valid." She sipped her water.

"Is that all?" he asked, disappointed.

"Well, it is said that the marriage received official sanction only two days after the first Bann was published sometime back in August. With Weasley in charge, who knows what concessions were made."

"Sanction? What kind of sanction?" he asked, interested again.

She shrugged eloquently. "I'm sorry. I've not had time to find that out, but I will try. Rumour has it they may procreate if they wish, but that type of sanction has not been handed down in over a century, so I assumed it to be only rumour."

"Maybe, maybe not. I can see the Ministry offering it if only because Potter is the last of his father's line and Snape isn't too far behind. Both bloodlines stand to die out with each of them. I wonder, could this be a marriage of convenience?"

"With a Closed Form? I think not," she replied with conviction.

"Closed Form. They are using a Closed Form?" He sat forward, his brows raised almost to his hairline.

"Yes, did I forget to mention that? It's the only official thing anyone could get their hands on--the application. That's how they knew about the Banns. It only discloses the country, though."

He sat back thinking, so she went back to eating her dinner, now quite cold. She cast a warming spell and ate as quickly as she dared. She knew he would want to talk more, but she and baby were hungry.

A house-elf approached him with trepidation. Lucius barely noticed her, but waved his hand indicating she could take his plate. He eyed her as she left the room noting her tea towel was cleaner than most. He put it out of his mind. "August you say?"

"Hmmmm?" she dared, chewing on a bit of pheasant.

He looked at her and chuckled. "Keeping you and number two away from your meal am I, my sweet?"

She swallowed and said, "No, not really. I will manage to eat all I require at some time. The evening is long and there are always warming spells."

"Such a trouper. What I wanted to know was, are you sure the Banns were published in August?"

"Yes quite. That is when the handfasting was at least." She thought about it a moment. "Oh!" she exclaimed, figuring out where he was going. "That's awfully soon, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it is, my sweet. It barely makes the 60 day requirement." His eyes narrowed in speculation.

"I wonder what the rush is?" she asked, thinking it over.

"Hmmm. Good question." He pushed away from the table. "Good question, indeed." He gave her a peck on the cheek in passing, well pleased with her information. "I'll just let you both finish your meal in peace."

Relieved, she did just that.

4 October 2003

While he waited on his company in his private study, a snifter of warmed brandy in hand, he reflected that Avery's daughter had been quite a pleasant surprise. While she was not as exquisitely made as Narcissa, dark where his former wife had been pale, Bethany had a graceful daintiness about her that more than made up for it. Well educated, well-read, very French, and smart enough to know when to flash her sharp wit and when not to. And quite passionate to boot. She was a pleasure to bed, her pouting when she obtained his 'toys' (as he'd heard her say once) quite appealing--it was almost enough to forswear his mistresses. Well, all but Bellatrix, who still continued to warm his bed whenever she was in the mood to do so. He made sure that was as often as he liked.

No, she was nothing like he'd expected. Surely, not as much fire as Narcissa, but Bethany still got what she wanted--she was as manipulative as he was, the difference being she was careful to make sure he knew she was doing so. And she knew how to gauge his moods well. Her comment last night about the house-elves still brought chuckles--it was very well aimed. However, he had not 'broken' the two elves as she thought--Maldy had done that for him as soon as he'd found out they were working for Dumbledore. 'Impressive he managed to get someone in so close for so long. When will that wretched man die?'

Not too much later, Avery and Peter arrived at the mansion. He sent his personal house-elf, Maldy, who had been with him since he was a boy, to go fetch Draco down as well. Avery gave him a quick report on their movements in Europe while they waited for his son.

Soon all were present, Maldy inconspicuous at the back of the room, ignored as Lucius had planned. "I'm sure you have all heard by now that our dearest friends and colleagues, Severus Snape and Harry Potter are to be wed in three weeks." He paused at Avery's snort. "I have been thinking that we should, at the very least, give them a little present. Something they will always remember."

Avery chuckled, and Lucius knew he was thinking of all the little 'gifts' he would love to give the Potter brat, and Severus he couldn't stand; he just wanted to kill the traitor, messily and with little finesse. Or so he'd said on several occasions.

'Yes, he will be a good one to carry out the second part of my plan,' Lucius thought as he watched the obvious thoughts going through their heads. "I've learned a few things about this wedding." He proceeded to tell them the information given to him by Bethany last night. "It has also been confirmed that this is a love-match," he sneered, "and it appears Dumbledore has rushed the standard waiting period because there is something significant about the date--something that will strengthen them." He paused gauging their reactions--they were cautiously upset. He went on, "I am assuming you feel the same way I do about that. I find it unacceptable."

Pettigrew, who to this point had been a blank, asked, "How do we know this information is accurate? It seems a bit far-fetched. I mean, maybe it has to do with something else entirely."

Lucius wanted to hex him. 'How like the little rat to question me. Too bad I really need him.' However, he'd learned his lessons well from his former master--cursing the help did not buy loyalty and only got you killed in the end.

Avery spoke up, "No, it sounds like something Dumbledore would do. He's always been one for his fortune-telling. I'm not saying he's right, mind you, but it sounds like him."

"True Avery, only too true. And at this point I am not sure I want to take a chance that the information is wrong," Lucius answered him.

Draco had kept silent so far. He knew where the information had come from and mindful of the truth his father had told him last year at his own engagement--"...there is an amazing untapped network out there that could ferret out secrets faster than any spy and it lives in our homes and sleeps in our beds. Gods help us if they ever find how powerful they really are with all the information they have..."--he was not inclined to question the source. Instead he asked, "What is it you want us to do?"

"Ah, finally! A practical question. It's very simple. Peter, I want you to be seen. Perhaps at Diagon Alley where one of Dumbledore's little spies can see you. I want you to leave a trail, not too easy to follow or they'll be suspicious, but enough of one that they will think you've been sloppy and will be able to find you. Avery can help you there as well as supply you with the Portkey."

Peter knew better than to question it.

"Avery, you and Draco are to wait at the ambush point. I leave it to your capable hands to figure out where to do this. Once Dumbledore sends Snape, you are to incapacitate him and any others with him and then bring them to the hidden chambers here."

"How can we be sure Dumbledore will send Snape?" Avery asked reasonably.

"Actually, I think he will send both Snape and Lupin. They are only two of a handful remaining who would recognize Peter on sight and he wouldn't dare risk the Potter brat. The rest only know him from pictures. He will not want to take the chance on losing him."

Avery nodded. "When do you want this done?"

Lucius smiled evilly as if the answer was obvious. "The day before the wedding. I want the three of you to hold Snape until after this auspicious wedding date. I am thinking some discomfort for our guests is allowed as we need to show a reason why they're here, but under no circumstances are you to kill them. We're not ready for an all-out attack from Dumbledore yet and that is what we would get if his precious Severus was gone."

They discussed some of the details and after another hour Draco and Peter left while Avery remained, supposedly to go over the European campaign. He made himself comfortable, a long-standing guest in this house.

"Maldy, bring us both a brandy and then stay here," Lucius ordered.

The house-elf complied and with brandies in hand, Lucius chuckled. "Of course, you know that's not all I want, don't you, Avery?"

"Well, I admit, I thought the whole plan a little soft coming from you, but I figured you knew what you were doing," he temporized, knowing he was treading dangerous ground. Lucius was not someone he fucked with.

"Always know the right thing to say, don't you, Avery?" He took a sip of his brandy. "However, this time, you are quite correct. I do know what I'm doing and have some other things in mind." Avery wisely said nothing. "I have something slightly different in mind for Professor Snape. You may play with anyone he brings with him, play not kill, mind you, but Snape? I want him broken."

"Ah, a little trip down memory lane with my 'Lady', sir?" Avery was positively glowing with anticipation.

"Excellent idea!" He turned to the house-elf. "And in the meantime, Maldy, you will sneak into Hogwarts and kill Mr. Potter."

The elf nodded his head repeatedly, saying, "Maldy will do what the Master wants. Maldy can get into Hogwarts for master. How is Maldy to kill Harry Potter?"

"With Esmerelda, of course." He smiled secretly. A most insidious weapon, his Esmerelda.

Avery chuckled, wheezing. "Do we get to tell Snape that his precious is gone?"

"Oh, I would certainly hope so. Wouldn't do to not to give the former spy some information. Make sure he's well 'softened' when the news comes. I want him to 'feel' his loss--before they break the handfasting. And maybe, just maybe, if we're very lucky, he might even lose his mind."

'Or at the very least, his spirit.'

End Part I
Continued in Part II : Oh What a Difference a Day Makes