(Re-beta'ed by Dances With Vampires)
Chapter 12: Art of Deception
The communications room was a flurry of mass chaos; attendants sat at their computers trying to catalogue the extent of the damage, and Chief Police Commissioner Ernest Harkens barely had time to read over one report before the next was handed to him. They had managed to hold off the press until the five o' clock news, and with the deadline drawing nearer by the minute he was determined to be able to give some reassurances.
The Prime Minister had briefed the Queen, and advised that she leave for her own protection. No one would be safe. All the same, whilst she sent her children and their families away, she insisted on remaining.
Allies had shown their support, arranging to send experts and resources, as well as additional forces to help contain the riots when they began. They were just as afraid – if it could happen to England, it could certainly happen to any other country in the Commonwealth or United Nations.
"Sir, I have the figures for the equipment taken. Here."
Harkens glanced up from the figures. "No servers?"
"Not one, sir. It doesn't make any sense, why wouldn't they take the servers?"
"I don't know, let's just count that as a blessing for now. Get I.T. on it," he ordered, before turning to the second-in-command. "I have a meeting with the Ministry of Defence and the Ministry of Justice. If it sounds promising, I want you to interrupt, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"You're all doing a terrific job," he announced. "But we are running out of time. We need facts and figures confirmed; we have a country about to descend into panic, and it's up to us to reduce it."
-.-.-
Severus gave Eliza a salve for the bruise around her neck, and fixed the room with a wave of his wand – much like had been cast in her own home the first time she had encountered Lucius. He left her alone, the bedroom door unlocked and ajar.
She stood by the coffee table, looking at the book with reservation and suspicion. She was still adjusting to the idea of magic, let alone werewolves. What other manner of creatures existed? Part of her wanted to believe it all to be a bluff, a lie to manipulate her, but reason spoke against it. Whatever was in that book was enough to scare the shit out of Lucius, and what scared him didn't bode well for her.
A part of her didn't want to care that her life wasn't the only one resting on her decision, but no matter how hard she tried to remind herself that Arnica was her captor's daughter. . .she sighed.
Severus had mentioned enough about her family to believe what he said was true – that they were safe, for now. He hadn't needed to spell it out that their safety was directly proportional to her cooperation. Hesitantly, she reached for the book, all the while wondering if she really wanted to know what lay in its pages.
She needed time to think of any other options. If Voldemort thought she was about to spread her legs for Lucius – ever, let alone any time soon – he was sorely mistaken.
Eliza held her head in her hands as tears started to swell in her eyes, and she fought to bring logic before emotion. If she didn't, Troy would never give in; he would sooner die than allow himself to be backed into a corner. And Maddie. . .she let out a shuddering whimper as the images confronted her. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"It's just a baby. . .," she whispered, trying to convince herself that it had no meaning attached to it as the tears continued to flow.
Lucius paced in his repaired study, as Severus sat at the desk distractedly outlining a lesson plan.
"Purebloods always struggle when it comes to getting pregnant." Lucius stopped as he presented his argument. "Some families try for months. It was almost a year with Draco."
"May I direct your attention to the Weasleys?"
"They are unconventional in most regards-"
"I would also like to point out that Eliza has three Pureblood siblings and three Half-Blood siblings. As near as I can surmise, reproduction isn't a problem with her line."
"But he still can't demand anything straight away," Lucius half-pleaded. Severus raised a brow, and he resumed pacing. He'd been at it for an hour, desperately trying to find a way out.
"Have you considered his disdain for bastards?" Severus suggested absently, concentrating on the scratching of his quill.
"Of course I have, but I don't want to sleep with her let alone marry her," Lucius snapped.
Severus lowered his quill. "Think about it. In a matter of months, things are going to change drastically. I wouldn't put it past a year before he seizes control of the Ministry, or at least begins openly advancing against it. The Order already suspects you, and once things start falling apart, nothing is going to stop them from coming here and tearing the place apart looking for her," he explained. "Make a deal with her – amnesty for her family. I believe she would do anything for them; even act smitten with you in public if needs be, especially if you 'rescued' her so valiantly from the Death Eaters who were holding her captive. You hold a very public ceremony after an appropriate courting period, and any suspicion of your involvement with her disappearance or association with the Death Eaters dies. You would be delaying the inevitable for about a year, at best." Severus returned his attention to his lesson plan.
"And Dumbledore wouldn't interfere at all, now would he?"
"Of course he would. I never said it would be easy," Severus scoffed. "However, you know as well as I do that it buys you the most amount of time, and keeps your face out of Witch Weekly's richest bachelor list."
"I'm not a bachelor."
"Somehow, I don't think the middle-aged witches really care about that distinction. At the end of the day, you know I'm right about this-" Severus broke off as their attention was drawn to the door of the study. He glanced warningly at Lucius, who reluctantly set his wand on the table, though not out of reach.
Eliza swallowed and took a deep breath. "I. . ." Her nerves faltered, and under Lucius's unwavering gaze it looked for a moment as though she was about to bound out of the room like a frightened rabbit. She looked away, tears starting to swell again, and wiped her eyes as she condemned herself. "I'm. . .I'm willing to. . .negotiate. . ." Her voice rasped as the words stuck in her throat like a bone.
Lucius felt lightheaded from relief. His daughter might escape this unscathed.
-.-.-
Words couldn't describe Eliza's discomfort as the two men watched her closely. It took all of her willpower not to run away as Lucius took a seat opposite, Severus between them as a mediator. Lucius agreed reluctantly to leave his wand aside, and Severus poured her a generous drink to calm her nerves.
"If there was another way – say, I.V.F. – can we do that instead?" she finally asked.
"What's that?"
"In Vitro Fertilization. They take my eggs and your. . ." She waved a hand at Lucius, feeling too nauseated to even use medical terms. "Mix it in a dish, and inject the fertilized egg into me. At least that's the laymen's version of it. There is no sex, no touching, nothing."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound so bad. . .How do they get the eggs?"
"With a needle, about yay long, and suck 'em out."
"That's barbaric!" Lucius exclaimed, disgusted.
"Frankly, I feel the same way about you," Eliza snapped.
Severus cut in before Lucius said something distasteful. "Eliza, that's a Muggle procedure – there's nothing like it in the Magical world. Unless you can do it on your own, it can't be agreed to."
"Why not?"
"You're a missing person. You can't be seen out in public, let alone in the Muggle world," Severus reminded Eliza as she seethed.
"So you're planning on keeping me locked here for the rest of my life, is that it, then?" Eliza demanded. "In that case, I may as well take my chances with the werewolves. At least then, one might kill me," she snapped, finishing her drink.
"At the end of the day, there is no getting around it," Severus said. "The only thing you can negotiate on is when. The options even then are limited, and you won't like it."
"I don't like it," Lucius interjected, arms folded.
"Okay, I won't like it, he clearly knows what you're talking about and doesn't like it, so why bring it up?"
"Because it gives the two of you the longest time."
-.-.-
Eliza sat alone in her room, basking in the light of the candelabras and reading the book on Fenrir Greyback. It was the only thing keeping her from changing her mind, knowing what the alternative was.
Draco and Arnica came home from their shopping trip, after Severus gave Draco the all-clear that it was safe again. He had been kind enough to steer his sister clear of her, Arnica only stopping by to wish her a good night.
At the end of the negotiations, Lucius had been very silent, informing her that if she wished, Draco and Arnica could give her a tour of her new home in the morning.
Tears slid silently down her cheeks, her chest tight as though she were strapped in some sort of corset. It was a steep price for a longer leash and a year, but it still hinged on the guarantee for her family. Despite the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, she felt as cold as ice, a chill reaching deep into her bones.
She wiped her eyes and set the book down at the sound of a knock. "I'm up," she said, expecting Draco to be asking questions about the day's events.
When Lucius entered, she jumped to her feet and moved to the other side of the chair, putting a barrier between them. Her hand inched to protect her throat.
He looked lost as to how to handle the situation, but he cleared his throat all the same. "I was hoping that we could talk. . .about this arrangement." There was no anger or malice in his voice. She understood that the situation was less than desirable for him. However, in her own predicament, she found it difficult to find any sympathy.
"I'm sure you'll understand when I say that I can't handle any more talking for today," she replied warily, unsure how he would take any further defiance.
He looked around, nodding slightly. "You don't have to do this."
"Do you know of a way that I can better ensure Troy and Maddie's safety?" she asked. "I want to make this abundantly clear: you tried to kill me today, and if given the chance you probably would have succeeded. If playing the doting partner in public is what it takes to ensure that they never go through what I have, then I'll do it. But I loathe you even more now than I did this morning, and the day before this, and the day before that." Eliza couldn't quite hide the quiver as she fought to keep her voice calm.
"The rest of our lives together is a long time."
"Only if your 'master' agrees," Eliza said. "It's my brother and sister, or nothing. Frankly, if they weren't in the picture, I would already be telling you to send me to Fenrir," she said steadily, but broke eye contact first. "If you'll excuse me, it's getting late."
She closed her eyes and swallowed, hoping she could hold the tears back until after he left.
Lucius crossed the space between them, and Eliza's panic flared when he took the wrist of the hand protectively close to her neck, only holding it tight enough that she couldn't get away.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
Eliza looked up and met his eyes. "Don't you dare thank me," she hissed coldly, pulling herself free and marching to the door, holding it open for him.
He pulled a small jar out of his pocket and placed it on the table. "Severus isn't one to worry about the odours of potions. . .you may find this a little less offensive."
And he left without another word. Eliza closed the door quickly and began to cry ragged sobs again.
-.-.-
"I'm amazed she went to sleep so quickly, given the amount of ice cream she had today," Draco commented, not bothering to look up from his book as his father entered. "Going to tell me what exactly is going on?" he asked, looking up as Lucius took a seat opposite, looking drained.
"The Dark Lord wants her to have a child," Lucius replied.
"That doesn't explain why you two were. . .oh. . ." Draco trailed off, and closed his book as the realization hit.
"I don't think I can go through that again. . ."
"Eliza isn't Mother," Draco tried to assure him. "I don't think she would act as she did."
"I didn't think your mother would, either. If I had, I would never have pressed to have Arnica," Lucius sighed.
"Do you want me to. . .I don't know, talk to her. . .?"
"No, don't. Unless she brings it up – the last thing I need right now is for her to think I'm using the two of you to manipulate her."
Draco stared at his father. "You're scared."
"Of course I'm scared, this woman is holding your sister's life in her hands – if she doesn't agree to this, Arnica may as well be dead," Lucius snapped, frustration breaking through his façade. "And even then, if the Dark Lord doesn't agree. . ."
-.-.-
Severus crossed the stone courtyard, lit only by the approaching full moon. He would have liked to check in with Dumbledore and report on the very limited success he had achieved, but he was already late, and would have to hope for the chance to let him know later that evening.
As he entered the manor and made his way up the stairs, he checked off his mental list, making certain there was nothing he was forgetting. Finally he came to a stop before the doors of Voldemort's sitting room. He didn't bother knocking, glancing at the snake curled up by the door, so still that it was like an eerie statue.
"Enter, Severus." Severus obeyed, stopping short of the chair before the fire and bowing, despite the fact that the occupant couldn't see. "Rise. I expected you over an hour ago."
"The situation was somewhat more delicate that I had anticipated, My Lord," Severus informed him with his usual dry tone. "However, it has been resolved."
"Excellent, take a seat." A hand waved to another empty chair before the fire. "So when can I expect the child?"
"That will have to wait. Lucius insisted that if this is to be done as such, that it is to be done properly," Severus lied. "He wants the child to be legitimate."
"I would hate to think that you helped him come to this resolution," Voldemort threatened, making a less-than-subtle attempt to probe Severus's mind.
"I tried to talk him out of it, of course – you did, after all, say you want the child sooner rather than later," Severus said, making no visible attempt to resist the probe, but still replacing his thoughts with a false memory. "However, the girl will only agree to it if her family's safety is guaranteed. In exchange, she is willing to fully cooperate, publicly – and privately," he added, watching Voldemort's movements closely. "I was concerned in this matter, but I am sure you will agree that she could be of far greater use this way, even if it presents a temporary setback. The Daily Prophet and every other piece of Wizarding media will be so focused on the reappearance of a missing Pureblood, much as they were with her siblings, that any attempts made on the Potter boy's life will go unnoticed."
Voldemort stood by the fire, thinking deeply about what was being said. "The Dementors failed to kill him when I arranged for that Skeeter woman to be made aware of the Raveiens."
"I would remind you that had you chosen to entrust me with that information, things would have gone very differently."
"Someone has been passing on information to Dumbledore and his band of fools. I suspected you for obvious reasons, and too much was at stake to risk it."
"And now?"
"Your loyalty isn't in question. You are without doubt one of my most loyal followers. I will take what you have told me under advisement. In the meantime, I want you spending more time at that hideout. I want to know more about the other two before I vow their safety, and I want to know what is going on with the boy; things have been. . .interesting where he is concerned. The extra time there may also help you find the true spy, so that I might dispose of him appropriately. You're dismissed."
-.-.-
"Severus, take a seat." Professor Dumbledore gestured to the empty seat across the desk. He was dressed in his night clothes. "So. . .how did it go?"
Severus wasn't sure if it was weariness from a busy day, if Dumbledore was beginning to feel his age - or if something in his expression betrayed that the news he brought wasn't good. "She's still alive, for now. Lucius certainly gave killing her a fair attempt; if he hadn't been so enraged, he might have remembered to use his wand. Physically, she'll heal. Mentally. . .I don't know how much more she can take. I did what I could to buy time, but her family won't like it."
Dumbledore listened in silence. When Severus finished, he took a deep breath. "You did the right thing. For now, it is the best chance she has for survival," he said. "For all of his faults, Lucius Malfoy has always put his family first to the best of his abilities. Do not mention this to the others for now - not, at least, until it has been confirmed. Lucius will need to wait some time in order to set up a convincing charade. . ." Dumbledore's mind wandered off, taking the rest of his sentence with it as he poppet a sherbet lemon into his mouth. "I was also wanting to discuss the topic of Harry with you - to see if you would be willing to teach him Occlumency. If this link between them is noticed by Voldemort, it will pose a threat not only to Harry, but also to everyone he comes into contact with."
"Potter is neither skilled nor disciplined-" Severus sneered.
"Which is why it is vital that he learns," Dumbledore interrupted. "There may be far more at stake than simple nightmares. We have no way of knowing just what other ways he may be able to influence the boy." Dumbledore got to his feet, signalling that the discussion was over. "Oh - and I will be requiring your lesson plans from September to the Christmas holidays by Thursday," he added as an afterthought as he headed to his quarters.
"Good night, Professor."
"And to you, Severus."
-.-.-
At Grimmauld Place, the celebration for Ron and Hermione having been made Prefects was only just beginning to die down.
Harry left the kitchen to seek some solitude in the living room. He wasn't surprised that there was someone else there – it was more what she was doing, studying the names on the House of Black tapestry closely.
Maddie flinched as though caught doing something she shouldn't when Harry placed his glass on the table.
Harry snorted. "Don't mind me. It's an impressive piece – just a shame that the names on there are less than desirable."
Maddie smiled. "I guess I was just wondering if my name was on something like this somewhere." Her eyes followed the line down. "This is the man they say took Eliza," she said, quickly changing the subject. "Lucius Malfoy."
"Yeah. . .His son, Draco-" Harry pointed at the name below.
"What's he like? The others really haven't said much about him."
"Just someone who you'll want to steer clear of. Don't worry about it."
Maddie gave a week smile. "I guess I'm just anxious. . .new school and all."
"You'll be fine. Besides, you've got all of us to help you. You and Hermione are going to be spending a lot of time in her study corner of the common room."
"What if I'm not in Gryffindor?" Maddie asked, a slightly anxious edge to her voice.
Harry laughed. "Do you want to be in Gryffindor?" Maddie nodded. "Then tell the Hat – it takes what you want into account too," he reassured her as the twins came in, hunting them down.
"What are you looking so stressed about?"
"Worried about the Sorting." Harry smiled, giving Maddie a small push into the waiting arms of the twins, who were grinning happily.
"We are offended that you would even think of choosing another House."
"Who are we going to train up to take over from us?"
"Mum's already got Ginny under her thumb-"
"And now that ickle Ronnikins is a Prefect-"
"His sense of humour will be stripped at the gates-"
"Never to be seen again-"
"The fate of our legacy will be resting with you," they said cheerfully, leading her back into the kitchen.
Maddie allowed herself to re-join the celebration, but not before casting one last questioning glance at the tapestry.
"I mean, obviously you're not a Weasley-"
"But we can do something about the hair colour-"
"No one will know the difference-"
"Not by the time we're finished-"
Maddie couldn't help but giggle as Hermione raced over to rescue her before the twins had a chance to contaminate her with their rebelliousness and happy-go-lucky approach to school.
"Killjoy," the twins groaned in unison. "You can't keep her from us all the time!"
-.-.-
"How dare you do something like this!"
"The Muggle Prime Minister has been stonewalling on issuing cover-ups-"
"You committed what they are calling a terror attack!"
"The Muggles were getting too close to learning the truth-"
"They were nowhere near learning the truth! So they found a little blood, and Muggles started speculating – there. Was. No. Danger! Now the country wants to hold someone responsible, and that would be our kind! Do you honestly believe that the Prime Minister is going to walk away from this? Please, tell me what good you thought would possibly come from this!"
"The Muggles are nothing-"
"Have you looked at the streets at all today? Your face is all over the news!"
"Well, at least they're too distracted to worry about-"
"Do you have any idea what sort of position you've put me in? Do you have any idea the position you've put our kind in!"
"The Prime Minister would never risk betraying what he knows-"
"You have stepped out of line, Umbridge!"
"You told me to fix it, Cornelius, so I did."
"How is this fixed?"
"Well, I didn't expect him to be such a fool and announce something like this to the country before conferring with you. And we aren't trying to steal their identities, or whatever they are accusing us of doing; I'm simply arranging for some 'computer'-understanding Muggleborns to sort through and remove the evidence that may pertain to magic-related incidents. I will return everything once that is over."
Cornelius collapsed into his chair. "I have enough to contend with – Albus, and his vicious attempts to supersede me. I do not need my staff doing the same."
"Rest assured, Minister – Professor Dumbledore won't be a problem for much longer."
"Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, I'm going to have to ask for your resignation and wand, pending an investigation-"
"I have worked too hard to get to where I am, and if you think that I'm going to step aside-"
"Umbridge, it's over. You don't have a choice."
"Oh, don't I?" She pulled her wand on him before he had a chance to react.
-.-.-
Sirius pulled Harry aside. "I don't want to get your hopes up," he said quietly. "However, you look like you need it. There is a chance we might be able to capture Peter."
"What? Really?"
"Shh! Molly wouldn't want me telling you, in case we don't succeed. But you're not a child; you should know what's going on. Maddie spotted a rat at the Ministry - it has to be Peter, it can't be a normal rat."
"What would he be at the Ministry for?" Harry asked.
"We suspect" - Sirius's voice continued to get quieter – "he is looking for something Voldemort wants. It's unlikely he will find it quickly, so we have a chance to lay a trap for him. If he's captured, I'll be a free man, and you won't have to go back to the Dursleys-"
"Sirius! Harry!" Fred called out, as he and George wandered over. "We're taking bets on Maddie's sorting, want in?"
"Only bidding candy," Sirius assured loud enough for their mother to hear, before leaning in. "Two Galleons."
-.-.-
Umbridge shut the door to the Minister's office, wand in hand, calm and composed. She took a moment to straighten her cardigan and pat the base of her styled hair, making sure it hadn't collapsed. Everyone had left the Ministry for today. Her solid heels echoed down the corridor before she stopped at the lift.
Fudge followed suit, hurriedly locking his office and looking distracted as though he had lost track of the time and forgotten something important. He joined Umbridge at the lift.
"Oh, before you leave, I have a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister early tomorrow to sort out this huge misunderstanding. I'd like you to be in my office at seven to discuss a teaching position at Hogwarts. I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on Dumbledore, and I think it's fair to say they don't come more trustworthy than you."
"Certainly, Minister," Dolores gushed. "I'll see you tomorrow then." She smiled a little too pleasantly as the doors closed.
-.-.-
Janice stood by the briefing room's window as they were informed of their duties in the coming days and weeks, and the TV cycled footage of the carnage taking place around the country.
The room was filled with the stench of anger and betrayal. Many wanted to go and join in the rioting as opposed to stopping it, and she couldn't blame them – hell, she wanted to do it too. But it wasn't the government who betrayed them. The announcement had gone live across every channel; the news had been delivered by the Queen herself, who urged the people to remain calm. It fell on deaf ears.
Riots were breaking out all over the city. Whilst they weren't as bad as the ones in central London, criminals had taken to congregating around ATMs and attacking civilians as they did the only thing that still seemed logical – protecting their hard-earned money. Stores were being broken into as desperate families raced to stock up before the realisation hit home to those who had taken to the streets with banners and signs.
The riots in London were the worst the country had ever seen, with apparent experts telling them that they could only expect things to escalate as time went on. There had already been three reported deaths in just a few hours, with many more injured. Officers were armed only with shields, pepper spray, and water cannons while they were pelted with anything and everything the rioters could get their hands on. Phones were ringing off the hook, reporting break-ins and assaults as neighbours turned on each other, whilst all shops, bars, and pubs were forced to close their doors.
There were rumours of terrorist groups and factions from Ireland clambering to claim responsibility, whilst countries with suspected resources were quick to lend their aid to avoid suspicion. Airports and ports were closed, the only people coming into the country being reinforcements from allies and members of the Commonwealth. They were in no way prepared. Even the few hours they bought from the media had done little by way of establishing a system of planned order. It was all hands on deck. Rank or position was a minor consideration.
All normal television and radio schedules were cancelled, replaced with cycling news footage and announcements of the declining situation. Any and all in authority pleaded with the public to remain calm. Reports of missing children went out, some who were caught outside when the rioters took to the streets, some swept away as families sought shelter elsewhere. The reserve bank was being pushed to the limits, trying to keep the economy from reaching the point of collapse as the stock market plummeted. Interviewers threw every question which couldn't be answered, but needed to be answered.
The room gasped in horror as the report began showing new footage, of rioters attacking the police with flaming Molotov cocktails without a care. The Queen's guards filled the front entrance of Buckingham Palace, looking on at the crowd shouting abuse through the gates, a scene to rival the French Revolution. The guards kept their faces as trained and stone as ever. At least the rioters had the sense to listen when orders were given to shoot (but not kill) any who breached the perimeter. Still, it didn't stop the onslaught of glass bottles and rocks flung over the fence.
"They shouldn't have told the public."
"How in God's name do you cover something like this up?"
"I don't care what they say – the IRA didn't do this, no bloody way."
"Janice, what do you think?"
She turned to face the room. "I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "I want to believe that this has something to do with the cases we've been having lately, but they were so indiscriminate with what they took. . ."