Fides in Culpa
Chapter Thirteen: Blood, Dirt, Room, and Board
Malfoy Manor held a fragrance of luxury living, infused with Narcissa's ever-always intoxicating perfume that he had worn since her soft years in Hogwarts, for it all slipped under Rita's nose as she stepped out of the cool summer night and into the warmth of a living room provided by a lit fireplace. Narcissa led her across the threshold, taking quick glances of Rita's blood-spattered face and bathrobe, her bare feet powdered with dirt from the filthy living room floor of the Riddle House; long, dark hair furiously tied in a quick bun on top of her head. Just like the good old days.
"You look a fright, old friend," Narcissa remarked, handing her a glass of scotch.
"I'm sorry to show up unannounced," said Rita softly. "I just, um…"
"You don't have to tell me what you've been doing. Quite honestly, I don't want to know."
Narcissa withdrew her wand from the pocket of her silky house robe, and flicked it respectively: "Scourgify…" The dirt, grime, and blood whipped away from Rita as a gust of wind caught through her hair and clothes, erasing away the evidence of the previous crime scene. Narcissa took a seat beside Rita and palmed her obsidian fingers; a grave expression crossed her face, as if her suspicions had been confirmed.
Rita said nothing. She'd never speak them out loud, but Narcissa had a conflicting view about how the Dark Lord could enforce the idea of blood purity and prejudice toward beasts and half-breeds. She loved Lucius and Draco very deeply, but the stakes to keep her family safe were high; and since the Dark Lord's return, she must have been in high straits considering the Dark Lord's disappointment in Lucius—He must have been disappointed, Rita thought, for He was disappointed in me. Narcissa's association to the Death Eaters was as damning as Rita's own reputation, both aligned one way or another to Bellatrix Lestrange and all those who participated in the First Wizarding War.
Rita opened her mouth, but Narcissa held up her hand to politely ask her not to speak.
"So," said Narcissa quietly, "what The Daily Prophet has written, it's true, then?"
"Is what true?"
"Aurors came to your house to look for you," said Narcissa. "The Ministry of Magic was right to believe that you returned to the Dark Lord's side and since Cedric Diggory's body came out of the Maze, they've blamed you and Barty Crouch Jr. for the mess of the Goblet of Fire."
"What, they think I helped Barty put Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire? I don't have the magical knowledge for—"
"It doesn't matter, does it?" Narcissa grabbed The Daily Prophet off the coffee table and dropped it into Rita's lap. "Whatever kindness or tolerance you showed while you were aiding the teachers at Hogwarts, they've stomped all over it. The Ministry of Magic hasn't told the public that the Dark Lord has returned, but they've mentioned every fact about you that would incline that you're conspiring to revive Him."
"They're certainly giving me a lot of credit," said Rita, "considering that I didn't do it. Pettigrew did."
Narcissa sipped her glass and nonchalantly tapped her old friend's fingertips, "You couldn't persuade them otherwise with metaphorical blood on your hands. You abandoned your post at Hogwarts without notice, witnessed at the Dark Lord's revival—the Potter boy had a lot to say, whether or not the Ministry of Magic took his word for it, but there are people who believe him. The Daily Prophet mentioned your, uh, talent, necromancy—" Narcissa frowned. "Is that true?"
Rita nodded.
"What exactly have you been up to these last couple of months?" asked Narcissa quietly.
"Recruiting with Greyback," said Rita. "I only returned home a few days ago, had to leave Greyback to his own affairs when one of our raids went awry. Apparently, the Dark Lord wanted to give me a taste of my own antics."
She pulled up her sleeve to the height of her shoulder to reveal the healing laceration she received from a curse. "Dawlish came to the house, and I went to escape; the Dark Lord summoned me—"
"And then you show up on my doorstep," said Narcissa.
There was the faintest plea in her voice, a quiet request to hear more of what the Dark Lord asked of Rita, but an unwillingness to ask for it. Rita didn't see Narcissa as less effective due to her maternal instinct; if anything, Rita felt a pang of sadness for her. There was a gentleness in some of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle that He would never see, nor would He understand since the Dark Lord believed that something as weak as love belong amongst their ranks. Rita felt this love for Severus and Bellatrix; Severus felt this love for Lily and Rita. Narcissa, to her husband and son. The need to protect one's interests: a true Slytherin trait.
"Covered in blood and dirt. Rita, you must understand where my concern is: If the Dark Lord is as disappointed in you as Lucius said He was, I must know what the Dark Lord will ask of my husband—wife to wife." A pause. "You would want to know the same from me if it were Severus in Lucius' place."
Rita hesitated. Did the Dark Lord instruct her not to speak about what happened with Miss Calbot? She couldn't recall any restrictions, so Rita cleared her throat and fidgeted with the wedding ring on her finger, all the while Narcissa listened intently: "He asked why I returned to Him, since I didn't search for Him as Barty Crouch Jr. and Pettigrew did. Although I had been doing my due diligence in the Forbidden Forest, He still thought that I had "grown soft'…since I had been at Hogwarts. And then…" Rita decided to omit the disturbing sensations that she had felt under the Dark Lord's duress, "He brought out an official of the Department of Mysteries. Miss Calbot. I don't know her first name."
"What did he want with her? Who was she?" asked Narcissa.
"He wanted me to extract information out of Calbot."
"But you came here covered with blood; He didn't hurt you?" asked Narcissa urgently.
"He had already done that…" Rita answered honestly, and she lifted her neck to show that even weeks after, there were faint red marks around throat from her punishment. Narcissa paled, fear flickered across her face. "And the blood wasn't mine. The Dark Lord asked me to show Him what I could do, so I did what He asked."
"He wanted you to kill that woman…" Narcissa said.
"'Creatively'," Rita repeated the Dark Lord's instruction quietly.
She also omitted that the Dark Lord helped her stop the Dark Magic from consuming her entire hand with necrosis, how it felt to rip Calbot apart with the Transmogrifian Torture Curse, how it felt to hear His praise when she did exactly as He asked, and the finality followed with the Killing Curse—Rita covered her omission with a drink from her glass. Narcissa had an air of tension in her stiff posture, as if to relax on the couch with destroy her composure altogether. The ideas of what Lucius Malfoy would have to face must have raced through Narcissa's mind in quick succession, for the mistress of the house went silent.
"He asked me to come here," said Rita.
"Why?"
"The Dark Lord said to inform Lucius that he knows what the next step is. Considering his ties with the Ministry of Magic, I'm guessing that Lucius might know about the Department of Mysteries and what exactly the Dark Lord wants inside."
"Didn't you get anything from Miss Calbot?" Narcissa said, almost pleadingly. She really didn't want Lucius involved in any business that the Dark Lord wanted his Death Eaters to partake, but she had to know that eventually the Dark Lord would test his fidelity as he had tested hers. Rita had come out unscathed during her trial with the Dark Lord, but aside from her relationships with Severus and Bellatrix, she didn't have much to lose—especially since Rita's reputation had always been a bit stomped into the ground. The Malfoys, though, had their societal acceptance to behold: to the Wizarding World, they had all been under the Imperius Curse…
"She wouldn't give me anything," said Rita, shaking her head. "Just when I thought I was getting somewhere, she chose martyrdom instead."
Narcissa's jaw clenched.
No doubt Lucius, Severus, or Bellatrix would be able to gulp down the more grappling details of Miss Calbot's demise easier than she; or it was perhaps how nonchalantly Rita heard herself explain what happened which made Narcissa tense so hard. I came here wearing her blood on my clothes. Just fill in the blanks, use your imagination…
"And then the Dark Lord ordered you to kill her," muttered Narcissa.
"Yes, and to come here to inform Lucius about the Department of Mysteries." Rita said. "Whatever it is, He wants it badly."
Narcissa nodded slowly, agreeable. It was Rita's turn to ask her questions: "Who all has been tasked to find me? Surely not just Dawlish."
"They haven't mentioned anything in front of Lucius," said Narcissa, circling the scotch in her goblet. "Considering our friendship, perhaps some of the officials believe that he would tip you off. We didn't know that they had started their manhunt. We've been subject to raids for the last two years, notably when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and then when Black escaped Azkaban; so, we had no knowledge that their focus had switched to you. We are the most obvious choice, I suppose, as suspects."
"Though arguably, I was not one of them." Rita pointed out. "Not once have Severus and I had Aurors tossing our place upside down; and our reputations are almost as dirtied as yours."
"No one would suspect a Potions Master or a teacher's aide," Narcissa suggested. "Lucius is a politician. It comes with the job, I imagine. Lucius has feelers in the Ministry—a bit like spies," she added when Rita raised an eyebrow. "Some low-brow interns who want to crawl their way to the top, so Lucius grants them favors."
Rita sneered. Narcissa shook her head, "Don't look at me like that, Rita. You aren't going to tell me that small favors in return for information is reviling to you. Not with what you've been doing in your spare time."
"Fair point." Rita receded.
Whatever her distraction, it had worked on Narcissa, whom had relaxed due to Rita's hypocrisy. Narcissa politely yawned, and rose to her feet.
"We'll provide you with a place to stay, as always, you are welcome in our home. You can have the room upstairs to the left; it's a guest room that we keep made up for times like this…Though," she added, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around her finger, "I had hoped it wouldn't ever come to times like these again. In the morning, I'll let Lucius and Draco know that you're our guest so they aren't surprised when they see you. And I'll send word to Severus that you made it here safely."
Rita smiled and joined Narcissa on her feet.
"As usual, Cissy, you are uncommonly kind."