Author's Note: Just some responses...
EarwenTelrunya: Aw, I thank you for the effort, anyhow. I know last chapter was a bit information-heavy, but it was very important for where the story is going. I'm curious; how would you have had Ginny tell Harry about what happened to her?
Cyranothe2nd: Yup, it's been in the cards for a while, but both men might surprise you.
CoCo82: Wow! You might be the most prolific reviewer I've ever had. Thanks! Yes, you're not the only one that isn't all that happy about the way the pairings are turning out. However, I think I've probably said before that my muse does as she pleases...and that I can't make everyone happy. I just hope the plot is good enough to keep people reading in spite of it. One of my goals is usually to introduce people to different pairings than they usually read...and as for Harry, I have tried to make him a decent guy in this fic. At the moment he's just irrationally angry at what happened to Ginny and looking for someone to blame, and Voldy isn't there. Lucius is the next available scapegoat. I promise you he'll make it through this scrape. :) Oh yeah, and I'm really missing both FW and Dr. Who now that one is cancelled and the other's season is over! Maybe I should start watching Torchwood? I'm also awaiting Lily Allen's next album and hoping it will be as great as Alright, Still. I got it back in January and I have to say, listening to it was partially responsible for the synthesis of this fic. It was all I was listening to when I wrote the first few chapters. If people haven't heard Lily Allen, go download her album immediately! Her songs are just wickedly clever and some of her lyrics are hilarious.
mrs.twizzler: I know all the mob information was a bit complex and confusing, because I wouldn't even be able to keep it straight if I hadn't drawn it out myself! I've been thinking about creating a family tree so people could follow it more clearly. Would that help? You'll find out if Harry keeps his promise or not right now. :) Thanks for reviewing.
embirlily: Thank you. I hope you continue reading. :)
BelhavenOnTap: The first time I saw your penname, I thought it said BelhavenOnTOP. Heh. Dirty mind, what can I say. I'm glad you like my Lucius and Draco. I hope you enjoy this chapter and those to come.
dracoshott28: Yup, I was scared, too, before I figured out what I was going to write! Hehe. Here's your update.
Tears of Ebon-Grey: Yes, the addition of the mob makes everything more interesting, I think. Thanks for the review. :)
abyssgirl: I responded to you individually, but for the sake of everyone else: abyss had asked about the use of the name Jocasta and why I would use a Greek name for an Italian character. A valid question, since Jocasta was the name of Oedipus' mother and eventual wife in the Oedipus plays by Sophocles. In spite of that, the name is actually Italian, meaning 'light hearted'. I didn't pick it to make any reference to Oedipus. I just liked the name and it's not one you see every day.
Boofanyrox: I'm glad you liked my little joke. I was burning to put that into a story. Mission accomplished!
loveangelli: Yup, the mob. Another one of those pesky ideas from the muse. You'll see Rita's mob potential soon (but she's totally a slippery bitch already!). The LM/HG/DM story is in the works, first chapter should be posted in a few days.
ReineMauvaise: Yeah, Harry's not at his best in the last chapter and this one. However, he will be redeemed.
September 12
"Whoa, Potter," Draco was the first to speak, "what's this about?"
"Ginny told you," Hermione breathed.
"Told him what?"
"Yeah, Ginny told me," Harry spat. "Were you planning on keeping it to yourself?"
"It is Miss Weasley's story to tell," Lucius spoke up. "Not Hermione's."
"Oh, we're on a first name basis now, are we, Lucius?"
Lucius straightened up fully, exuding control. "Some of us, yes, Harry."
Harry turned to Hermione, eyes blazing. "You've spent too much time in the company of this family. You need to leave."
An answering blaze lit in Hermione's eyes. She had never responded well to irrational men telling her what to do; somehow Harry's harsh command was the most arrogant one she'd ever received. There was no respect in it, none at all, so it was a mark of just how angry he was. Still, she didn't deserve it. Not from Harry Potter, who she'd supported tirelessly for the thirteen years she'd known him – and that wasn't always an easy thing to do.
"I'm not going anywhere, Harry," she returned stubbornly. "You're not thinking clearly. If I go, you'll do things that you regret."
"I'll do them, but I guarantee that I won't regret them," he said darkly.
"Potter, I think you're forgetting that you're outnumbered," Draco interrupted. "I have no idea what this is about, but if you try to harm anyone in this room, you will be sorry." His wand was out and trained upon Harry.
Harry laughed, a short bark of mirthless sound. "This is kind of familiar, actually. I seem to remember spending some quality time with the two of you before. We're just missing a few people. Oh, and this time Hermione's on your side instead of being tortured by you."
Draco stepped forward, rage flashing across his face. "You have no idea of what we went through, Potter. None. And leave Hermione out of this."
"You brought it on yourselves, so excuse me if my sympathy is conspicuously absent," Harry shot back.
Lucius's fist pounded down on the table, creating a loud, sharp noise that startled all three of them. "Enough!" he growled. "Enough." And then, to their great shock, he lifted his left hand and said, "Expelliarmus."
Harry tried to hold onto his wand, and so did Draco, but neither of them were successful. The wandless magic wrenched the slivers of wood away in a confused second. Hermione's heart stopped. If Lucius took those wands, he'd be in violation of his sentence and they'd drag him back to Azkaban…and who knew what would happen for the use of wandless magic…
Lucius kept his head. The wands stopped and hovered in the air a foot in front of him. He didn't look tempted by them, either. He looked wary, a bit discomposed, but still the one in control.
"Hermione," he said quietly, "take the wands."
She moved forward and took Harry and Draco's wands, glad to diffuse the situation.
"Now," Lucius continued, "Hermione and Draco…get out."
"What?" Draco exploded. "No. There is no way I'm leaving you alone with him, not when he bursts in here talking about how he'll do nefarious things to you and not regret it."
"There are a lot of people who would do nefarious things to me and not regret it," Lucius pointed out impatiently. "Mr. Potter is not unique."
"For good reason," Harry scowled.
"This is a conversation that must take place, but I will not have the two of you here in the crossfire. Leave Mr. Potter and me to settle things."
"Lucius--" Hermione started.
"Leave." His voice brooked no argument; it was a piece of the old Lucius, that venomous creature of scales and gold.
"No," Draco stated, just as rancorous as his father. "I will not be ordered around. Anything that Potter has to say to you, he can say to me. And I'm not so stupid as to think that this conversation won't involve fists!"
"I've got my own pair," Lucius growled. "Now, out!" He moved his left hand again, and an invisible force pressed on Draco's chest and propelled him down the hallway. He fought the entire way, cursing.
Hermione followed reluctantly. As she passed Harry, she gave him the most scathing look she could muster and said,
"Harry James Potter, you're thick. Ginny has forgiven Lucius and she's the one that matters. It's selfish of you to ignore that. You're taking her power away from her all over again."
With a defiant flick of her hair, Hermione stormed after Draco.
Lucius and Harry stood there for what seemed like a long time, only the parchment-laden table between them. He had known this was a possibility if Ginny confessed to Harry. He had known the blame would come. In Potter's place, he probably wouldn't be reacting any differently.
"So which one of you is fucking Hermione, huh?" Harry demanded suddenly. "The newspaper never did decide."
"Your crudeness is charming, Harry, as is your disrespect for your friend."
"Don't call me that!" he nearly shouted. "You haven't earned the right."
"Oh, now it is a privilege to use your given name? How lofty we have become."
"And how little we have changed, Malfoy. You're still a black-hearted scumbag."
"And you are proving at this very moment that you are still an impetuous child," Lucius returned. This was a battle he could fight forever; engaging him in a war of words was never a good idea for the opposing side. If there was one thing Lucius was good at, it was generating responses where most would be left speechless.
"Better an impetuous child than whatever you are."
Lucius rolled his eyes. "Are you going to hit me, Potter, or just burble infantile insults? Because I don't have all day."
"Right, like you're just going to stand there and let it happen."
Lucius walked around the table and his long legs carried him to Harry. To his credit Harry barely flinched when the tall blond closed the distance between them. However, he was cowed by the quick movement, and the fact that it wasn't followed by a fist to his jaw.
"Here I am, Potter."
"What are you playing at?" Harry demanded.
"You obviously want to exorcise your anger at what happened to your girlfriend – directly via the Dark Lord, indirectly via me – by beating me to a pulp. Well, I'm here." Lucius held out his arms. "I am the world's punching bag. Do make sure you get me in the liver, that will hurt the most." He pointed to the right side of his torso, just beneath the ribs. "It's right here, in case you didn't know. The last person only managed to split it in two. Maybe you can go for three. You're the world's prize fighter, after all."
And, given his consent and his sarcastic direction, Harry felt no guilt whatsoever in drawing back his arm and slamming his fist right where Malfoy was pointing.
As soon as they were out of the flat, Draco whirled on her.
"What in the nine hells is Potter on about?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?!" Draco practically shouted. His temper was rising exponentially.
"Your father was right, it's Ginny Weasley's story to tell, not mine."
"I am not going to stand here, Hermione," he said murderously. "I don't owe Harry Potter anything and neither does my father. Not anymore."
"Harry won't hurt him. I wouldn't have left if I thought he was capable of that!" she fired back, her own temper beginning to spark.
"I don't share your confidence!" He was yelling now. "Potter isn't the saint you think he is. Sixth year--"
But he never finished, because Kingsley Shacklebolt apparated right next to them with a loud pop. They both jumped and Hermione was startled so badly that when she tried to draw her wand, she fumbled and dropped all three of them on the floor. She and Draco nearly knocked heads when they both lunged for the wands.
"What," Shacklebolt thundered, "is going on here?"
Harry felt a mild, quickly allayed spear of alarm when he realized that Malfoy had not been kidding about that strategic punch hurting him the most. The blond curled around himself in sheer agony; it left him wide open and Harry swung again. He made contact and heard a satisfying crack. Malfoy's nose was bleeding and he was on his knees, his eyes tearing involuntarily. It was then that Harry realized that Malfoy wasn't going to fight back. The only move he made was to lift the collar of his shirt to soak up the blood streaming down his face.
No, Malfoy wasn't going to fight, but a moment later a grey streak leapt in front of him. It was Oberon, protecting his fallen master. The dog's ears were low and flat, its teeth showing, and an ominous growl rolled from its throat. Harry took a step back. Fighting a man fist-to-fist was one thing; however, a dog had teeth and claws and a speed that Harry didn't.
"Oberon, get," Malfoy wheezed.
Harry's eyes jerked from the dog to its master. Was Malfoy insane? This was the last line of his defense. The dog didn't obey. It only growled louder. Harry noticed a thin, hairless line bisecting the dog's head – a healed wound. It must have tried to protect him the last time, when Skeeter and her compatriot had struck so unexpectedly…
Harry must have been looking at the animal darkly, because Malfoy's voice sounded again, stronger and more acidic.
"Don't you dare, Potter."
He struggled to his feet, took the dog by the collar, and hauled the uncooperative animal to the nearest room. When he closed the door, Oberon scrabbled at it with his claws, growling and whining. Malfoy braced on the door for a second. His hand went subconsciously to that spot beneath his ribs.
When he turned the sight of him startled Harry. He had seen Lucius Malfoy in some interesting situations, but never like this. Never with his face and shirtfront covered in blood, blood that Harry had drawn. The shocking red stood out against the bright blue of his eyes and that pale hair; the locks that hung over his left shoulder were dyed crimson at the ends.
They stared at one another for a moment. Harry was shocked that Malfoy would abandon his only protection, but it evaporated away a moment later when the older man's incorrigible malice welled up.
"That's all you've got, Potter? I'm sure your girlfriend punches harder than that. You ought to have sent her to take her own revenge."
He knew that Malfoy was egging him on and didn't care to reason out why. The man had a talent for knowing exactly what would make a person angriest and if he wanted to use it to his own detriment, Harry was not going to stop him. He lunged.
Then they were on the ground, Harry with his knees on either side of his foe's chest, and he swung with a rage he didn't know he had. He landed two punches, three, and in that moment he could have killed him. Malfoy must have sensed it; his hand clamped around Harry's wrist as it came down, halting him so suddenly that he lost his balance. Lucius used it to his advantage and in a few limber movements that belied his age, the blond had somehow flipped them over and pinned Harry down.
Harry struggled, writhing against his grasp, but Malfoy was strong. Or perhaps he was only made so by the need to stay alive; Harry was now quite sure he would snap the man's neck if he escaped.
"If you kill me you will go to Azkaban, fool!" Lucius hissed, giving him a forceful shake. "Who will take care of your pretty ginger then?"
At that moment the door flung open. It gave Harry the moment he needed; it distracted Lucius enough that Harry could wrench out of his iron grasp and wrap his hands around his neck. His satisfaction was short-lived; a shouted spell pulled him away from the object of his rage. He found himself levitated a foot above the ground and he kicked until the intruder stilled him with a Body Bind.
Harry's mind slowed down enough that he could figure out who was here. Kingsley. The Minister of Magic. Circe's sagging tit, even he was on Malfoy's side?
"Lucius," Kinglsey said, "are you all right?"
Harry's eyes flickered to the man he'd just been pried away from. He looked awful; his nose was obviously broken and a slash beneath his eye made it look like he was crying blood. Bruises were blooming rapidly across his face and neck. Harry had been in fights before, but never one where the other party did not fight back, and the realization of what he could have done hit harder and heavier than Lucius's fist ever would.
Inexplicably, Harry's anger drained away like a bathtub whose plug had been pulled. Hermione's words punched through his anger at last. He was being selfish. He had suffered through many things in his time, more than the average person could endure, but he had never been an average person – and he had never gone through what Ginny had. His Ginny. She was so strong, so brave to stand by him in spite of how badly it had bitten her that first year and long afterwards. He couldn't begin to imagine the strength it took. And here he was, crashing through her peace, negating all the work she had done to become all right, ignoring the absolution she had already granted to the facilitator of her shame.
That was why she looked so sad. She knew he would react this way and that he could not trust her to have taken care of things herself. She had told him anyway; still, the foreknowledge of how a person would react did little to negate the pain and disappointment when that person gave you exactly what you expected. He sighed. If there was one thing he had always recognized about Ginny, it was that she could take care of herself and her affairs better than most. It was one of many reasons that he'd fallen head over heels for her.
"I am fine, Minister," he heard Lucius say.
"Mr. Potter?"
"Fine," Harry ground out.
"All right," Kingsley said. "Now that I know neither of you is in imminent danger of dying, I'm going to have to arrest you both."
"No!" Harry shouted immediately, renewing his struggle against the Body Bind.
"Harry," Shacklebolt said, a bit more gently, "you don't have a scratch on you and Malfoy looks like he's been mauled. You assaulted an unarmed man and you might have done worse, considering your hands were around his neck when I came in."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Lucius beat him to it.
"He is also unarmed, Minister. And I freely admit that I instigated it."
Harry's eyes widened in shock. Malfoy was sticking up for him? Had hell frozen over?
"That doesn't excuse it," Kingsley said. "And let's talk about him being unarmed for a moment, Lucius."
"I used magic," Lucius said matter-of-factly. "I'm aware that this violates the terms of my sentence and that I'll be sent back to Azkaban. I will come peacefully."
Kingsley nodded gravely. "Your honesty will work in your favor. They likely won't sentence you to the Kiss."
"What?!" Harry exploded. "You're not serious about sending him back, Kingsley!"
"A deal is a deal, Harry," Shacklebolt said.
"NO. No. The only reason he used magic was because I came in here ready to tear his head off!" With a growl of rage, Harry strained against the Body Bind until he thought his heart might burst.
"Stop it," the dark man ordered. "You'll injure yourself."
"Let me go, Kingsley!" Harry snarled. "I won't fight once you let me go."
"Do I have your word you won't try to hurt Mr. Malfoy?"
"Yes."
With a severe frown, Kingsley muttered, "Finite Incantatem."
The moment Harry's feet hit the floor he jabbed a finger towards Malfoy and went on a tirade. "His sentence was that he couldn't use a wand! He didn't use one – it was wandless and I know that you know that - so you have NO RECOURSE to throw him back in Azkaban! All he used was a disarming spell and a levitation charm in self defense, and so help me, Minister, if you arrest him, I'll--"
"Shut up, Potter, before you are arrested for threatening the Minister of Magic in addition to assault," Lucius interrupted dryly.
"No!" Harry shouted. "I will not have a man go to prison because he defended himself when I stormed into his house and tried to kill him!"
"Mr. Malfoy is right, Harry, it is generally wise not to further incriminate yourself once you've been caught."
"Minister," Lucius said evenly. "You know as well as I that no court would convict him unless he dismembered a small child right in front of them. There is no point in wasting time and money on a fruitless trial." He swallowed. "And I would not testify against him anyhow, so in the absence of my testimony and other viable witnesses, it would be quite futile."
This time both of them gawked at him. Harry was stunned. The devil was ice-skating in hell, he was sure of it.
At last Kingsley threw his hands up in defeat. "I can't begin to understand what's happened here, but I'd rather not have to arrest either of you. So, Harry, if you are on the record stating that Mr. Malfoy's magic use was wandless and in self-defense, he is cleared. And Lucius, if you claim that you instigated this incident and do not wish to press charges, I can hardly force justice on you. BUT--" he barked , causing both men to flinch, "if anything like this happens again you will both be thrown in Azkaban before you can get a word in edgewise. Now stay out of trouble!"
He turned, his cloak whipping with the rapidity of the motion, and showed himself out. Harry and Lucius both sagged with relief before meeting eyes across the room.
"You wouldn't…you wouldn't really have gone back to Azkaban for this, would you?" Harry asked, still aghast.
Lucius crossed his arms and shrugged. And in that moment, Harry forgave him.
Draco was not in the mood to forgive. As soon as Shacklebolt left, warning them to keep their wands to themselves lest he return, he wasted no time blazing back into the flat. Hermione was on his heels, instinctively knowing that this situation could rapidly become ugly again.
She gasped when she saw Lucius. Draco was already pressing him down into a chair, examining his ruined face. And it was ruined. She couldn't believe what Harry had done to him – Harry who barely had a hair out of place.
Quickly she crossed the room. Instinct told her that she had to get Harry's wand back in his hand before Draco's attention returned to him. Harry's face said that he realized the same thing.
He took his wand with palpable guilt. She contemplated her best friend of over a decade.
"You should…you should go," she whispered.
"Yes, Potter, you should," Draco said, his voice dripping with venom. Hermione felt him behind her, and for the first time since becoming reacquainted with Draco, she sensed a bit of the boy who had tortured her in school. "He won't hurt him, huh, Hermione?" the blond sniped.
Harry's eyes swept her and something changed in the green depths. A sinking feeling hit her; Harry had just realized what no one else had yet. He had just realized that she was well and truly…involved…with Draco.
"I have tried to forget the past, Potter," Draco went on. "And I do owe you. You saved my life – three times now. I won't forget that. But if you ever, ever threaten my family again, I will kill you."
Hermione turned to him, unsettled by the truth in his voice. "Draco…Draco, you don't understand. You don't know all the details."
His lip curled up. "Neither do you."
Hermione swallowed and then turned away from him. She couldn't have a conversation with him when he was like this.
"Let's go, Harry."
Ginny wiped tears from her eyes. She couldn't seem to stop crying. She knew that Harry wouldn't take her confession well, but there had been murder in his eyes. It must be something about men; their first instinct was anger and jealousy. She knew that all of her brothers would be the same, and that was why she would never tell a single one of them. Lucius was not a cat. He didn't have nine lives and even if he had, three had already been used up: one by the war, one by her own slim mercy, and another by Skeeter and her sidekick. She had exactly six brothers; they would be the end of him. She sighed. No one else would know, then, except maybe her mother. However, there was no guarantee that her mother wouldn't up and kill Lucius herself. She had, after all, dispatched Bellatrix LeStrange with a fury that no one expected.
She sighed and pulled herself up off the couch. This was the end of the fragile peace she'd made with the Malfoys, she was sure of it. It was a pity; she'd become rather attached to the females of the family. Narcissa and Titania were both quite pleasant. Not that she considered them to be in the same category for anything other than gender.
She was going to have to return Titania. The dog had really become a part of small family she had with Harry. She seemed to know exactly what Ginny was feeling at any given time and was always there to offer a soft, warm pillow, a wet nose, and the occasional slobbery kiss. At last a smile tweaked Ginny's lips; she had to try very hard not to compare that to some of her ex-boyfriends.
Come to think of it, where was Titania? Normally when she was upset, the dog was glued to her hip. She hadn't noticed her when she woke up, then she'd been distracted by Harry, and now it was nearly one in the afternoon and there was no trace of the dog anywhere. Was it possible that she'd gotten out somehow? A wriggling nervousness formed in Ginny's stomach. It would be adding insult to injury if she lost the one thing Lucius had given her. Never mind that she'd worry herself sick over the dog being taken by bad people or hit by a car…
She began a search of the flat, hoping that Titania was just hiding out somewhere. Or maybe Harry had taken her with him, one step ahead of his girlfriend? No, Harry was not thinking clearly enough for that. She ought to march over there and box his ears.
Damn it. Where was she? Not in the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, the dining room…Ginny flung open the door to the loo, which was slightly ajar, and let out a startled curse.
"Oh…fuck!"
And then she squealed and jumped up and down like a little girl. She had found Titania, all right. Titania and seven little additions! No wonder the dog had been looking a bit chubby lately. It had nothing to do with the food! In fact, they ought to have been feeding her more. But they hadn't known, and evidently it didn't matter; Titania and all the puppies looked healthy.
Smiling, Ginny went to retrieve a bowl of water and some food for the tired dog. She couldn't very well bring her back now.
September 25
Upon her arrival in southern Italy, Narcissa could only gape. Prior to this, she had been as far south as Rome. The places she had seen were beautiful but they didn't compare to this. This was the Amalfi coast they always spoke of. There was Mount Vesuvius, a slumbering giant covered over in grass and yellow flowers. It loomed in the distance, beautiful but dangerous. To the left, that must be Capri; the island jutted out of the blue ocean, tall and craggy. She could see the trail of boats going to and fro, some lowly freighters, some yachts. There was money on that island – money and trouble.
She surveyed herself. She looked like money and she was bent on trouble; perhaps if she showed enough cleavage to the right person, she could catch a ride on one of those yachts…
September 12
"There," Draco said, sitting back and placing his wand on the table, "done."
Lucius gingerly touched his nose. It no longer throbbed with pain and beneath his fingers it was straight and normal. He looked at his son, suitably impressed.
"Perhaps you should have been a healer."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Why did you let him hit you, Dad? I've never seen you in a fist fight but I know you can do better than that."
"You're right, I can." Lucius stood up and pulled the bloody t-shirt over his head. It was beyond salvage now.
"What the hell is that?!" Draco demanded, shooting to his feet.
"What?"
"That son of a bitch! He knew you'd been hurt there, how dare he…!"
Ah. The punch to the liver. Well, he had invited it, but he hadn't expected Potter to take him up on the offer. He made a mental note not to give the boy any ideas from now on. Lucius looked down and his eyes widened. A plum colored bruise with red edges stood out against his skin like a continent on a globe.
"Oh," he said. Looking at its contused firework of colors made him feel like he ought to be in more pain. This was definitely a case of it looking worse than it was.
"What a…what a...cocksucking hippogriff-fucking tosspot!" Draco fumed.
Lucius blinked and then laughed. It hurt his ribs but he couldn't resist. He had not heard his son use such language, well, ever.
"How can you laugh?" Draco glared at him. "He nearly killed you!"
"I would not have let him kill me," he said, still half-smirking. His smirk faded away, however, when he saw how serious and distressed his offspring was. "What's the matter?"
"You don't know what he's capable of."
Lucius frowned. Draco's tone wasn't encouraging. Mirth left him in one fell swoop.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
Draco didn't need much persuasion. He sat back down in his chair, crossed his arms, and gave his father a surly look before starting.
"When you were…in Azkaban, and I was…"
"Trying to kill Dumbledore," Lucius supplied.
"Yes, that. Potter was suspicious of me that entire year and rightly so, of course. He was so stupid about it. He was always trying to spy on me and point the finger at me and I managed to avoid him for months."
"And then?"
Draco sighed. "Bad timing. I was in the loo, the one no one ever uses. I was at my wit's end. I had tried everything I could think of to complete that mission. My time was running out. He," and his voice hitched and a malevolent expression passed over his youthful face, "had told me that if I didn't succeed by the end of the school year, he would order the dementors to give you the Kiss."
Lucius controlled a spurt of rage and an even greater spurt of guilt. The poor boy. Draco had always idolized him for reasons he didn't understand; he certainly wasn't deserving of it. He knew his son had torn himself apart that long year he'd been incarcerated…no, incarcerated was too nice a word for it.
"So I…I was upset," Draco continued, choosing his words carefully. "I was in the loo trying to get myself together before my next class. It wasn't working. And then, lo and behold, who should waltz in but Harry Potter."
Lucius exhaled. He could almost picture it. If he knew his son, he'd be so angry at being caught in a moment of emotion that he would lash out immediately. His and Potter's animosity had been the stuff of legend. It was unfortunate; Draco could have used that moment of weakness to lure the other boy in, to play on his hero complex and make him believe that he was a victim of the Dark Lord's madness. It was true, but at that point he had still been a semi-willing victim. He could have won Potter's confidence, caused him to drop his guard, and then delivered him like clockwork. It would have won him much greater rewards than Dumbledore's murder. But Draco didn't think like that; he never had. At one time Lucius had thought it a weakness but now he knew better. He, on the other hand, had thought that way for so long that he'd probably never be able to stop. At the very least, though, he could now prevent himself from acting on the knowledge that he could manipulate almost anyone.
"Are you listening?" Draco interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes. Just thinking. So Potter walks in…"
"He walks in, sees me…he didn't know what to do. I got so angry. I swear, Dad, that was the angriest I've ever been. It was all because of him. Everything I was going through, you were going through, Mum…it was because of him. I shouldn't have done it, but I went after him."
"Understandable."
"We dueled. It was short. He used Sectumsempra on me."
A nasty shock welled up in Lucius's chest. He felt the way a person did when he slipped on black ice and hit the ground tailbone-first. Where on earth had Potter learned Sectumsempra? That was Snape's curse, a very effective one, at that. He'd seen a man die from it, bled until he went white and blue and withered like fruit in the summer sun…
"Why didn't you tell me this?" Lucius demanded.
"Well, Dad, you were in prison at the time and I'm sure they were reading your letters. What was I supposed to write? Dear Father, today while I was trying to figure out how to murder Albus Dumbledore the savior of the world hexed me with a dark jinx invented by a Death Eater. P.S., do you have any suggestions since you've got that book Famous Wizards and How to Kill Them--"
"Watch your cheek."
Draco snorted at him. His intimidation really didn't work anymore, and he supposed it shouldn't now that his son was truly a man. He grimaced. If his father was still alive…it pained him to admit it, but the man would probably still intimidate the bejesus of out him. Draco was fortunate that his acquaintance with his grandfather had not lasted very long. Lucius hadn't been so lucky. He was pretty sure he could write a book about the ways he'd dreamed of killing his father. Yes, but Abraxas Malfoy had been more infamous than famous to those who knew him…
Lucius shook his head, brushing his demon sire from his mind. He had not thought about him in years; this week's breakdown had brought him back in full force and Lucius really didn't appreciate it. In the end Abraxas's pure blood had gotten the best of him. He'd died from a clot in his brain. The healers said he might have lived a while after the stroke hit, physically unable to move or speak, trapped in his own mind as he died slowly. For a long time Lucius had thanked every mysterious force that was responsible for telling his mother let Abraxas 'sleep in' that day…what a sleep it was…
"Sectumsempra," he breathed. "Did he leave you there?"
A muscle in Draco's jaw clenched. "No. He tried to reverse it and when he realized he couldn't he ran. I thought he was leaving me to die, but then he came back with Snape."
Lucius closed his eyes. If it had been anyone else, anyone, Draco could very well have died. Severus was one of the only people who knew the counter-curse.
"The best part is that he barely got in trouble for it. I was forbidden from telling anyone at school. Life went on as if he hadn't almost killed me." Draco's dusky eyes narrowed. "That was when I stopped feeling bad about what I had to do. That was when I repaired that bloody vanishing cabinet."
"I can't blame you." Lucius bit his lip. "But I'm glad I didn't know, or that boy would be dead."
Draco nodded. "I know." He shifted in his chair, seeming somehow lighter. "Your turn, Dad."
Lucius sat across from him, his bloody shirt still in hand. Drawing a deep breath, he said,
"Do you remember the Chamber of Secrets?"
September 25
Narcissa frowned. The only way up was a funicolare, a long, slow, jerky ride that would have to be taken with a throng of annoying muggles. Only muggles would invent something so ridiculous. Essentially it was a cable car that dangled hundreds of feet above the ground and pulled them up the mountain at an agonizing pace. They couldn't fly, for goodness sake, they couldn't even levitate! One snapped cable and they'd all die. Oh well; that was not her concern.
She couldn't apparate because she had no idea where she was going. A broom was out of the question with so many muggles around. It would have to be the funicolare. If the damn thing broke, she would be the lone survivor. Fancy that.
She paid the fare and shuffled in. She hoped for anonymity but knew she wouldn't get it. Men that spanned six decades were staring at her already. Women, too, but for a different reason. Their looks said they hated her for being rich and thin and beautiful. Narcissa lifted her chin a little higher and pretended that none of them existed.
Once they began to move, she had to admit that the view was spectacular. But the swaying in the wind was not. Merlin, these muggles and their insane methods of travel! Metal boxes on wheels, things on cables…
She couldn't escape the funicolare soon enough. Extracting herself from the crowd, she strolled into Capri proper. The sources she'd read said that Capri had been a resort from the time of the Romans; she saw why. It was gorgeous, almost impossibly so, and her sharp eyes noted many shops she would have liked to clean out. Since Ginny Weasley had shown her a muggle fashion magazine, she'd become addicted to certain designers. Clothing was one thing that muggles could do right. And shoes. But shoes fell under clothing, yes?
There would be time for that later. Today she was on a mission.
September 12
"What is the matter with you?" Lucius said, vexed. Draco had been like a zombie since the end of their conversation. Lucius disliked himself enough for his part in what had happened to Ginny Weasley; it was difficult to think that Draco might hold it against him, too.
"Nothing," Draco responded.
"You're lying."
His son flashed him a smile. "Taught by the best."
Lucius swatted at him. "The best taught you a lot better."
"I know."
He shrugged and returned to his gelato. Narcissa had brought it from Italy a few weeks ago and he had forgotten it was in the freezer until he went to get ice for his ribs. It was stracciatella, whatever that meant, and delicious, so he wasn't going to let his morose son distract him anymore.
Draco's leg was going. His heel tapped on the floor unconsciously; Lucius counted 124 taps in a minute. Something was stewing inside him. With a sigh, Lucius stood up and put the bowl under his nose.
"Eat it."
"I don't want it."
"It wasn't a request, and you do want it."
"You're right, I do." Draco took the bowl shamelessly and didn't bother to cast a cleansing charm on the spoon.
"Now, I have sacrificed my dessert for you. Tell me what's wrong."
"Oh, so it was a bribe?"
"When did you become so annoying?"
"Around the time that you became so soft that you give me ice cream when I'm feeling bad."
Lucius opened his mouth but had no retort. Draco had a point.
"Touche," he admitted.
"I won," Draco said, looking slightly dazed.
"Yes, and I'll never give you my gelato again."
"I'll take money next time."
"All right, I get the idea. Leave you the hell alone. Fine, but you make terrible company when you are sullen."
Draco tapped the spoon against his lips thoughtfully. "She'll never pick me over him."
Lucius blinked. "What?"
"Hermione. She will never pick me over Potter."
And there it was. That was the answer. He was thinking about Hermione.
"He is her best friend."
"Isn't your…" Draco squirmed, "significant other supposed to be your best friend?"
Lucius could have rolled his eyes at his naivete, but he didn't. "Do you think your mother and I are best friends?"
"No."
"And she's already proven herself quite capable of choosing someone else over me. So that blows your theory out of the water, Draco."
"I don't know if I can accept that," he said, somber.
"It is very early. You hardly know one another yet. Perhaps you should wait until you understand your feelings before you pass judgment on whether or not you can accept her friendship with Potter. If you love the girl, it might be worth suffering his presence."
Draco looked at him like he had ten heads. Lucius smiled, which caused Draco to look at him like he had fifteen heads and had suddenly turned pink.
"Uh, thanks, Dad," he said, half-sarcastic, half-awkward.
"I am capable of actual fatherly advice, you know," Lucius replied.
"Ice cream and fatherly advice," Draco muttered. "The end is near."
Lucius stood up and towered imperiously over his progeny. "Your end will be near if you leave that girl after forcing me to give her up."
"See," Draco pointed at him, "you say that you don't love her but I think that you're the one lying this time."
"Keep on thinking, son," he smirked. "And send me a letter when you know."
Thus ended Draco's brief reign as king of verbal jousting.
September 25
Three jinxes later, she had an address. Sometimes she was eternally grateful for her ex-husband's morbid book collection. A testicle-twisting hex was really very effective when one was trying to extract information from a man.
It was a villa. It made her think; if she ever went back to Lucius – wait a minute, where had that thought come from? She was engaged to Giacomo. So what if she'd slipped and allowed Lucius to screw her silly in the hospital? Mm, and what a screw…just like she remembered…
All right. Control. Center. Dolores Umbridge naked on a cold day. Yes, that effectively killed any arousal she might be experiencing. Whoever she ended up with, maybe a villa was on the list of things to buy. It was beautiful, airy, light in a way that Malfoy Manor never had been.
Narcissa rolled her wand between her fingers and contemplated the best way to go about this. She generally had others to act on her violent desires; she had never exactly stormed into someone's house and killed and/or severely maimed them before. She supposed it didn't really matter as long as she had a way in and a way out.
She cast a camouflaging charm on herself and walked slowly around the villa. This room was perfect. It had two doors. Now all she had to do was get in, set off a Caterwauling Charm, and wait for Scattori to jog to his death…
But when she stole into the room, the house was as quiet as a tomb. No voices, no footsteps, no ambient noise of human occupation. The Caterwauling Charm got no results. An identification spell proved that the house was empty.
Narcissa threw her shoe against the wall in frustration. All that work, the string of Unforgiveables and traumatized scrotums, for nothing. Sighing, she picked up her shoe and inspected it. It hadn't taken any lasting damage. Good, because the damn thing had cost probably eight hundred galleons; she hadn't bothered to do the Euro to galleon calculation.
She was back to square one, then. And now they knew she was on their trail; someone must have told them. She should have come the moment that henchman let Scattori's location spill. Damn it, damn it, damn it, what was she going to do now?
She started when a bird flew in through the door she left hanging open. Bloody thing…she was about to direct it back outside with her wand when it dropped a piece of parchment. She froze.
Oh, Scattori had known she was coming. And judging by this letter, he might not be very far away. This could be a trap…
Hesitantly, she crouched down to pick up the parchment. With her wand raised, Narcissa read.
Dear Ms. Black,
I see that you have found my summer villa. I normally leave the day of the equinox, but this year the weather was so pleasant that I decided to stay. That is, until I heard that you were interested in my whereabouts. Needless to say, that loose-lipped friend of mine is no longer troubling anyone.
I understand that you are upset about your son. His poisoning was a Mancini hit at its finest; I didn't order it and do not condone it. For this reason I am willing to overlook this little indiscretion. You are a woman of sense and if you cease your pursuit, your family will be safe.
If you continue to try to find me, I will be forced to rescind this offer and it will not end pleasantly. Please make the right choice.
Yours,
Gaetano Scattori