Fides in Culpa
Chapter Fourteen: Rita Unhinged
Sleep had come so quickly, so soundly. It felt only moments that Rita had closed her eyes in a dark room, only to open them—blinded—by the sunlight pouring into the room through the large bay window. She woke with a start, quickly forgetting and then remembering that she hadn't fallen asleep in her bed beside her husband. She uttered a low groan, feeling every sore muscle ache as she sluggishly pulled her legs over the edge of the bed. Narcissa's quick use of a cleaning spell had cleared the blood and dirt from her body, but Rita's quick resolve to healing her body through a bottle of booze had only resulted in a nasty hangover and the recollection of tension from the night before. Rita reached for the bottle on her end table—The hair of the dog that bit me. She tipped the bottle, but it was empty. Of course…
Knowing that Narcissa kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet for social gathering or business deals, Rita tightened the sash of her cotton robe and strode down the staircase, but halted on the bottom step, hand gripping the banister—
Lucius and Narcissa were seated on the couch, and beside them was Severus—All three of them wore the same grave expression on their faces, and Rita's stumbling footsteps had turned their heads in her direction. Of the three of them, Rita noted that Severus' face was tight: whether if it was out of concern or anger, or perhaps both, Rita couldn't tell. He is always so hard to read, why would this be any different?
"Morning," Rita said slowly, frowning at the lot of them. Narcissa clearly had finished telling them what Rita had told her the night before. As Rita descended to the floor, she stopped once more as the kitchen came into view, and Draco Malfoy was standing behind the counter; though he didn't seem terrified or angry like his parents or his teacher. He seemed…intrigued, or dangerously fascinated. So naïve.
Rita shook her head, pointing at the youngest Malfoy, "Oh, please, you didn't tell him, did you?"
"He has to know…" was what came of Lucius' mouth.
"I objected," Narcissa quickly interjected, her mouth thinning into a tight line, "however—"
"He has to know, Darling…" Lucius repeated, turning his head to speak softly to his wife.
"Humph," Rita jeered, as she strode into the kitchen; although she spoke in Lucius' direction, she gave Draco a pointed look, "What, so he can gloat about what his parents have been up to in the beginning of the semester?"
Narcissa uttered a noise of disapproval, but Rita said without regard, "He's done it the last four years; why would this year be any different?"
"The Dark Lord will not spare Draco's ears because the boy is fifteen, Rita," said Severus, averting his wife's disdainful gaze from the petulant child. "I imagine that the Dark Lord will surmise that Draco will eventually hear what has been done over the summer one way or another; it's best to hear it from them rather from Him."
Rita frowned.
"Or," Severus said with a note of sarcasm, "would you prefer Draco to believe what The Daily Prophet has been writing?"
"I'm not a boy," Draco said indignantly, "I'm a man; and I'm practically a Death Eater myself—"
"You're not." Rita said, pressing a finger into his chest. "I don't see a Dark Mark on your arm, do I—?"
Narcissa rose to her feet, "Don't speak to my son like that."
Lucius, noting the tension, gently wrapped a hand around his wife's wrist and pulled her back down to the couch. With the intent on keeping the peace, he gestured for Rita and Draco to come into the living room, "There is no use squabbling amongst ourselves. What has been said has been said; and what is done is done. Sit."
Rita, who had hoped to nurse her hangover, grudgingly walked the soft, white carpet of the living room and joined her husband on the couch. Draco sat opposite her, both of them giving each other the familiar glares that they shared while in class at Hogwarts. The moment Rita's legs hit the couch, Severus collected her hands in his, though not caringly—like Narcissa, he noted her obsidian fingers.
"Miss Calbot's daughter, Melanie, has yet been informed of her mother's passing," Severus said to Rita. "But it will come out. They will most likely apportion the blame onto the Dark Lord—but seeing as the Ministry of Magic hasn't been able to confirm the Malfoys' participation in the Dark Lord's reactivated fellowship and I still have remained intact while at Hogwarts, and Wormtail's being alive is still questionable…They will turn to you as the culprit behind Calbot's disappearance and eventual death.
"With this in mind," Severus continued, "if you are captured, the Ministry of Magic will not excuse your performance with a sentence to Azkaban. It is likely that they will be ordered to kill you on sight." On a softer note… "The Transmogrifian Torture Curse…Rita, how could you have chosen one of the worst ways to die?"
Perhaps she should have felt shame or guilt, but what bubbled in her stomach was indignant, self-righteous anger, a reminder of her own attachment to Bellatrix, whom would have praised her relentlessly for the feat that she had demonstrated—that the Dark Lord had praised her for—in the Riddle House. Rita pried her hands out of her husband's grip, forgetting that the impressionable Draco was seated across from her,
"How could you judge me?" Rita snapped. "I did as I was asked; I passed His tests again and again. How could you…?"
Lucius shook his head, "The Dark Lord will ask the most of us, Severus. Had Rita chosen something more harmless, the Dark Lord would have seen it as weakness, I imagine. You know what He's capable of, old friend. It would have been unwise to recoil."
The surprise on Rita's face that Lucius had sided with her was evident, for Lucius turned to her and said, "I know that He was disappointed in your failure to search for Him. No doubt, He is just as jaded with me as well. However, I do agree with Severus: The Cruciatus Curse would have been more forgiving—"
"She spat in my face," said Rita. "I opted to give her a quick death. She chose not to, so I did what I had to do. She could have given me the information I needed at any time. She didn't."
"Rita…" Narcissa uttered a patronizing tone, glancing at Draco furtively.
"If your son could listen to what I told you last night, he can listen to this," said Rita, gesturing hatefully toward Draco.
"Draco, leave." Narcissa said suddenly.
"What?" Draco said, turning to his mother.
"Leave the room." Narcissa said once more.
"Mother—"
"Do as I say." Narcissa said.
As pampered as he was, Draco didn't dare reaffirm his entitled attitude toward Narcissa; he uttered an objectified sigh and rose to his feet, muttering under his breath about his age and strode outside through the two large doors, leading to the elaborate backyard. Rita leaned back into the couch, noting Narcissa's disapproving expression. Lucius watched after his son momentarily.
"That," said Narcissa, crossing her arms, "was unnecessary."
"You want him to know the dirty details about what's happening around him," said Rita, "but when it comes down to it, you want to protect him. Which is it?"
"You realize who you sound like?"
"I'm aware," Rita said, rising to her feet.
"Rita, sit down," Severus said. "The Dark Lord asked you to come here."
"To deliver information," said Rita. "And I have. I appreciate the room and board, but if I am under such scrutiny from the Ministry of Magic, it would be in everyone's best interest, especially Draco's"—she gave a disrespectful bow to Narcissa— "if I am not here when another raid comes to call."
She turned to Lucius. "Whomever you've got in the Department of Mysteries, you ought to find out what is in there that the Dark Lord wants so badly and get it."
She turned to Narcissa. "You're a gracious mother, Cissy; but you know as well as I do that the Dark Lord doesn't care about family. If Lucius fails, you can bet that the Dark Lord will use your family against you; and the boy needs to know that. He may not be a Death Eater, and I object to the fact that you told him any of what I told you last night—but you can't shield him forever."
She turned to Severus, whom looked at her as if she were unhinged, rounding on everyone in the room. "Darling, I love you; but you really need to figure out what side of this war you're on: Either you're with us, or against us. And your teeter-totter see-saw about what is acceptable and what isn't as a Death Eater makes me wonder how you've been able to avoid the Dark Lord's suspicions after all these years."
Severus stared at her, as if something came loose—What is wrong with you? was the expression on his face, but Rita didn't give him time to respond. She strode toward the door, exited the Malfoy Manor, stormed toward the wrought-iron gates, and Disapparated.