A bit shorter than I've been treating you to recently but it's a good place to break for the story as a chapter. Thank you thank you for the new followers & faves! Please, just hit the review button and offer a crumb, a thought, anything!
To my faithful reviewers, you are the best! I had to put this up for you today, because you are all so good about leaving me reviews! Truly lovely, I thank you so much for your insights. I just love reading your speculations and reflections on what has happened thus far.
The poem quoted is "Midnight" by James Russell Lowell. It's a quick read that I recommend for those of you who are interested. Lucius also makes a reference to a Nietsche quote about evil. Please, review with your tidbits! Thank you! Reminder: I own nothing, alas!
Lucius received no fewer than six owls the next morning, a veritable line-up of them tapping noisily on the windowsill of his bedroom. Damning them for their noise, he slipped from the bed and cast a Silencio around it, the bed curtains drawing closed with a flick of his wand.
"Ah, to be popular again," Lucius quipped to himself, drawing his robe tight before he slit the first seal. He scanned the message briefly, showing no visible reaction. Next a message from Kingsley, then Yaxley, then Thicknesse.
"O wild and wondrous midnight, there is a might in thee," he quoted absentmindedly, turning over the clues in his mind.
"To make the charmed body almost like spirit be," Hermione continued, shoving aside the curtains and eyeing her husband suspiciously. "What happened?"
"I did just cast a silencing spell, I'm quite sure," Lucius mused, tapping the missive he'd been reading against his lips. "Tell me, how is it that you heard me?"
"A woman never reveals her secrets," Hermione said craftily, twisting her hair into a messy updo that she secured with her wand.
"Too true, pet, too true." Lucius released the last two letters from the remaining owls, one of which Hermione recognized as Harry's. He snapped to call a house elf, and ordered owl treats for the six owls that were jostling each other on the windowsill. That sorted, he watched them all fly off before closing the window and returning to the bed, handing her the missive from Potter.
"You will nag me like a fishwife, so you may as well read it aloud, dear."
"Pest." Hermione bolted from the bed and Lucius heard her retching, for once not going to assist her. It gave him precious minutes to read the last bit of his correspondence in private, a very necessary measure.
"You didn't help me," she groused when she returned, still swishing the breath freshening potion in her cheek. She swallowed it daringly, even though it might make a reappearance in short order. She wanted to know what had caused a veritable parliament of owls to congregate at their window.
"No, I did not." Lucius stood and handed her Potter's note which she had discarded in her haste. "The Ministry was broken into last night, and your red herring was swallowed."
"Good," Hermione said, then turned her attention to Harry's note. It was addressed to Lucius, which rankled her somewhat. She was pregnant, not dead—and since when had Harry Potter had more than grudging tolerance for her husband? She could see Lucius watching her in that punctilious manner of his, and began reading aloud.
'Several injuries to Aurors and Unspeakables last night. A dual prong strategy was employed and a lot of folks are talking about Milton. Fabian is through the roof as that was supposed to be kept quiet. Additional problems revealed—Lynx to discuss in person. Keep H. at home.'
She looked up indignantly, ignoring the dangerous rumbling of her stomach. That breath freshener had been a really bad idea, but stubbornly she refused to give in to her traitorous body. "As if I'm your pet! I'm going to roundly curse Harry James Potter when I next see him! And what in Circe's name does he mean by 'additional problems'? What Milton is he referring to? Brandefort? Lucius?"
Lucius had to get to the Ministry as soon as possible, which was unfortunately going to delay his ability to relieve Hermione's nausea. However, this was more important for the time being. A deadly game was afoot, and he would miss too much if he didn't get in as quickly as possible. Lucius threw back a glance at her.
"He's dead." That shocked her into silence, albeit it briefly. Lucius ignored her as he shed his pajama pants with quick necessity and started to clothe himself, then thought the better of it and used a spell. The effect was less sharp than dressing himself, but time was of the essence.
"How?" Hermione was going to lose the battle to keep that miniscule amount of breath freshening potion down momentarily, but she wasn't going to let Lucius leave without telling her.
"A dark curse, triggered when the Aurors stupefied him. I have to go and make sure nothing else was disturbed. I'll return as soon as I'm able."
He disapparated directly from their bedroom with a muffled pop, further evidence of his distraction if Hermione had been present to hear it. Unfortunately for her, her close relationship with the toilet was again in evidence.
"Damn," Lucius said quietly as he examined the auras briefly illuminated by his wand while the Aurors guarding Hermione's office door were distracted. There were too many very dark spells here to be the work of a hired thief, which meant that whoever was inside the Ministry was very dangerous indeed. He eyed the room carefully, casting a very low power Indago.
The Unspeakables had been through hurriedly, but they had not come back through with their curse breakers yet, leaving the initial search to the Aurors. The DMM preferred to work incognito anyway, which meant they'd like isolate the office and come back to do their work at night. As the head of the division, however, Lucius had every right to assess the office for himself—doubly so as it was his wife's, albeit recently unused.
He swept his wand carefully and slowly, following a protective arc that was itself considered a piece of Dark magic when it was fused to this particular spell. Lucius had no idea why, given the purely protective nature of the charm, but such things as pointless classifications of spellwork had never stopped him before, and it wouldn't stop him now. It took time, and thanks to leaving so early, Lucius had that. Underwood was the earliest bird of the ones that worried him, but he was at St. Mungo's this morning, and would stay there for at least an hour yet if his conscientiousness about his Aurors was anything to go by. Slowly, slowly, Lucius moved methodically through the office, acerbically gratified that he'd denied his wife a larger office when the division had moved to this floor a year ago. Finally his wand touched the edge of something dark and violent, sending a curl of malevolence toward his wand for picking it up. Well used to such recoil, Lucius continued the pass of his wand that dispelled the defensive mechanism of the curse, then withdrew to a safe distance to cast a different spell that showed its location precisely. It glowed a dark purple, hidden underneath the desk. He didn't doubt that it was keyed to Hermione specifically.
"The abyss looks into me," Lucius remarked, drawing back. He was many things, but he was no more than exceptional at curse breaking. This curse was intricate and practically breathed malevolence. This was something for the DMM and their best curse breakers.
"Malfoy. A word." Lucius looked up and met the Minister's gaze, then waved him over, his wand still steady.
"That," he said softly, with a nod toward the desk, as if his voice raised too loudly would activate the curse, "is why I will not be allowing my wife to recover too quickly from her illness."
Kingsley brought his own wand to bear, and wisely withdrew quickly. "This is growing very dangerous, Lucius. I think it's time to see if you're really the man I think you are."
His dark eyes were intent, and Lucius took a deep breath, then nodded. "I think I need not remind you of your promise of a failsafe, Shacklebolt. I'm not Snape to be commanded at whim."
"Understood."
That was all that needed to be said, then. Lucius drew his shoulders back and left the room with an authoritative stride, leaving Kingsley with a darkly speculative look on his face. Whoever had done this, as dangerous as they were, was not the real problem. The real problem was that someone was pulling the strings from within the Ministry's upper echelons. He only hoped their chumming had roused the real shark—and that there wasn't more than one of them.
"Yaxley." Lucius' tone was as pleasant as an eavesdropper would expect to find it, given the disruptions in his division.
"Malfoy," Calvin greeted him, sticking to the mutually agreed surnames at work. "How may I assist you? I trust this is something to do with the night's unpleasantness downstairs, hmmm?" He motioned Lucius into his office and then locked the door and silenced the room.
"How astute of you," Lucius drily remarked, idly turning a memo around to read it. "Cornelia Dextrose is such a meddlesome bitch, isn't she?"
"Oh, but we cannot ignore the dangers of Floo travel when routine inspections are not achieved, don't you know?" Calvin's tone was equally dry, and Lucius felt it appropriate to drop casually into the stiff chair in front of Yaxley's desk.
"Yes, well, about last night's goings on—I am terribly afraid that the thief will be disappointed with their haul. Hermione assures me it was an incomplete set, and she's split her data sets between our division and the DMM, at Kingsley's insistence."
"I'll bet Thicknesse is beside himself over that. It's not one of his division who's dying in Mungo's now, is it? I don't trust those Unspeakables as far as I can hex them." The tinge of bitterness to Yaxley's tone was evident. He was still peeved that a man he considered an inferior wizard was placed in charge of the more elite DMM instead of himself. Of course he and Lucius both knew that it had been Yaxley who had Imperiused Pius, but that was something that was going to remain well cloaked amongst themselves. So few of the inner circle Death Eaters remained, and, well, some things were sacred, weren't they?
"They are slippery bastards. I wouldn't be surprised if Thicknesse had moved the data off site entirely, but Shacklebolt is giving nothing away." Lucius was cool and calm in his agreement, which somehow gave the impression of wholehearted concurrence but was in fact a middling acquiescence with Calvin's complaint and nothing more.
"Doubtless he has. I don't know who is behind this, Lucius, but I can tell you that Underwood is doing his best to undermine me here, and Pius is doing his best to undercut me from without. Add in the decidedly expensive favor you've asked for, and I have to say that I haven't felt so stressed in years."
A red-winged memo flew into Yaxley's office, which he read immediately. "Fuck. I have to get to Mungo's, Lucius. It's not looking like they're going to be able to save Fortenod."
"I'm terribly sorry," Lucius said sincerely, the words stiff. Neither one could really offer true sympathy over death anymore, only a dreadful pantomime of what was socially expected. It was a hardened side effect of the war, but it didn't render it any less callous.
"I'll have to spend time with his family. Fuck me, I hope there are no young children." Yaxley was muttering now as he donned his outer robes and Lucius followed him out the door.
"If I were you, Lucius, I'd make more of an appearance at the club. There have been…rumblings."
"Duly noted."
Nodding, Calvin strode off, leaving Lucius with another visit to make. He headed to the eighth floor and Pius Thicknesse's office. The man was in the middle of a meeting with an Unspeakable regarding last evening, and after a brief interruption by Thicknesse's slender male secretary, William, Lucius was ushered into Pius' office. The Unspeakable had departed via the mysterious exit they had, and Lucius shook Pius' hand.
"Terribly upsetting business last evening, Pius."
"Indeed, Lucius. Although we are hardly surprised, are we?"
"No. Any updates from your inquiries regarding the potions?"
Pius steepled his fingers and looked at him. "I'd have rather thought that was more your bailiwick than mine, Lucius."
"And indeed it would be, were it not for the fact that my wife was the target. As such, my inquiries will doubtless bear no fruit."
Pius arched an eyebrow. "Probably not. Nonetheless, we are faring little better. There is little to be heard, which leads me to believe the ingredients were hand procured."
"That in and of itself is useful information," Lucius replied easily.
"As you say." He tapped a file thoughtfully on his desk. "Have you made your wife aware of those particular attempts on her life?"
"No, nor do I intend to do so. She hardly needs the worry, does she?" Lucius said nothing further, but let the man make of that what he will.
"Hmmmm." Pius was clearly disturbed, but chose not to pursue it. "I intend to continue asking Kingsley to transfer it all to here. I don't think I need remind you that we had no difficulties last evening in this part of the Ministry."
"Yes, but you also do not share a floor with another department," Lucius replied coolly. "And you did assure me that the Unspeakables would manage the situation satisfactorily. I think we both agree that the deaths of a suspect and an Auror are hardly satisfactory."
"Not going to make it, is he? I hadn't heard…" Pius paused. "And I hardly need to remind you that you are not the Minister, Lucius. I do not doubt that I shall hear a sufficient amount of invective from Underwood, then Yaxley, and finally Kingsley, if it does turn out that my teams performed to less than their highest level. Frankly, I doubt that will be proven to be the case. I suspect you'd rather have more satisfaction from asking Fabian how it is that his Aurors don't know how to deflect the Rigor Mortis."
"Is that what it was? I hadn't heard," Lucius said, drawing his hands together. "You must understand that given the timing of everything recently, I find it most disheartening to not have apprehended the subject."
"Naturally, you're quite pissed off. I'd expect anyone would be. Nonetheless, I suggest you direct your ire in more circumspect directions. Let me do my job, and you do yours."
"As if I were in need of a reminder," Lucius retorted coolly, then stood. "I believe we understand each other."
"Quite."
Lucius did not have to go looking for Fabian Underwood, as the man was waiting for him when he returned to his own office.
"Fabian. How convenient."
Yasmin blinked up at him with her saccharin smile. "Mr. Underwood has been waiting for twenty minutes, sir. I offered him tea or coffee, but he swears that the Ministry stuff doesn't suit him."
"I hardly blame him," Lucius replied to his secretary, bestowing a pretty kiss on her hand. "As always, Yasmin, you exceed yourself."
"Flatterer." It wafted behind them as Lucius entered his office, Underwood following him with a measured clip that did little to disguise his agitation.
"All right, Malfoy, I'm well enough aware that I'm not a member of the old wizards' network, but you have to know that I've just about had it with all the skulking that's been going on about this case."
"Sit?" Lucius drawled, gesturing to the empty chair with his hand. It was a plusher chair than you'd find in the typical Ministry office, a simple transfiguration he found easy to achieve and useful when facing antagonistic Ministry pollywogs.
Fabian halted mid-tirade, and took a look at the chair before sitting. "Thank you. Now, as I was saying, it's about time someone told me what—"
"Indeed, you are quite right. Please do accept my apologies—the Minister is very close-mouthed, as you know. But given the events of last night…" Lucius trailed off helpfully, and Fabian picked up his lead.
"Exactly so! How was it that my Aurors were the only ones there at that time of night, I ask you? Supposedly the Unspeakables were present, but you and I know that is a load of bollocks. And how is it that two Unspeakables were incapable of lending aid to one of my best teams? I understand there was a second attacker, but the simultaneous nature of events made it plain to my Aurors that—"
"—something quite cleverly planned was going on, yes, of course they would recognize that. And I've had it from Pius personally that the Unspeakables were quite engaged with the assailant, I assure you. I completely understand your frustration, Fabian. But surely you've brought this up to Yaxley…?" Lucius' expression was concerned, his hand waving in an affectation very similar to Hermione's gesticulations when she was trying to make a point.
"Of course I have spoken to Calvin, it was the first thing I did after he spoke to Fortenod's family at Mungo's. Nonetheless, he insisted he is not at liberty to share any more details, and given your highly personal investment in the matter I felt sure you would see my point of view, Lucius." The man was pleading again, something which Lucius could not permit. Time to redirect and hope he took the cue to 'fetch', as it were. He adopted a menacing expression and leaned forward as if imparting sacred information.
"When I find out who is behind this, I assure you Fabian, I'm going to kill them." His tone was menacing, and he allowed a hint of anger to flash in his eyes.
"Oh, I say, Malfoy, we both know you wouldn't do that…" Underwood hedged, and Lucius knew he would go scurrying to Kingsley in short order.
"Oh, of course not," he said, leaning back again casually, as if he hadn't meant a word. "Shacklebolt would hardly approve, would he?"
"Erm, no. Well, please keep me informed of what you hear, would you? I know you and Yaxley go back a ways—" Lucius ignored this less than subtle dig at their shared Death Eater past—"but it really is going to bite you quite viciously if my Aurors aren't fully briefed when protecting Mrs. Malfoy, hmm?"
Feeling like he'd won his point, Underwood dismissed himself from Lucius' office.
"Fool," he sneered at the closed door, then sighed. "One more meeting, then I can go home."
"May I come in?"
Hermione looked up from the sequencing she was trying to parse between trips to the toilet and various broths and tisanes being pressed on her by Smidgen. She had to admit the house elf was persistent.
"Of course, Astoria," she said, and was unsurprised when Scorpius came along. "Hello Scorpius."
"You look terrible," he returned in greeting, with the plain honesty of the very young.
"Scorpius, that is not how we greet someone who is ill."
"Why?"
Hermione couldn't help a small smile. "Because it's rude, but only if the person doesn't agree with you." She winked and the little boy scrambled onto the bed, sending the papers into disarray.
"Let me get that for you," Astoria said, waving her wand and organizing them by page number.
"Thank you. I only hope you've timed your visit well, I might need the necessary again shortly," Hermione informed her.
"I'm sure they will find the right potion. Draco seemed certain of it last night. I'm surprised Lucius isn't brewing it now." Astoria had turned to put the papers on her desk, her wand flicking easily as she ensured the papers stayed neat, thus missing the shocked look on Hermione's face.
"Can you do a trick for me?" Scorpius begged, tugging on her arm and distracting her thoughts.
"Um, well, I'm not feeling terribly up to it at the moment…perhaps an origami would do?" Hermione felt his tug of disappointment, but she was very depleted, energy-wise, and it would be best not to attempt it.
"Here," Astoria said, quickly transfiguring a piece of parchment into a brightly ornamented square of paper and handed it to Hermione.
"Thanks," she said, surprised that Astoria knew what origami was. She realized it was proof of her own prejudices against purebloods, and resolved to ask how Astoria came to know it. "How do you know of origami?"
Astoria watched her hands as she folded the paper, replying, "It was a tactic that my mother often employed to entertain Daphne when she was pregnant with me, she said. Similar reason to why you're doing it now, I suspect."
Her wry humor did not go amiss, and Hermione chuckled, the seahorse taking shape beneath Scorpius' watchful eye.
"Wow!" the little boy said, and Astoria charmed it to wrap its tail around the bed curtains, swimming away when he tried to catch it.
"There, that will keep him occupied for a few minutes anyhow," Astoria said, then looked back at Hermione. "I am truly sorry you are so ill. You must be calling Lucius every name under the sun."
"That goes without saying," Hermione said, then leaned back as Smidgen popped in with yet another tray.
"Please, mistress, eat, eat! Needs to get your strength up, you does!"
Hermione let the elf set the tray on the bed and ate two bites of melba toast. "I hate melba toast," she confessed to Astoria after the elf smiled and popped out.
"Then don't eat it. Have you tried any Muggle foods? I don't know if there is anything from your childhood that sounds good…?" Astoria looked slightly ill at the suggestion of Muggle foodstuffs, but at least she had thought of it, and suggested it. Hermione gave her full marks, as the idea hadn't occurred to her.
"Actually, I could go for some digestive biscuits, possibly. That is a good idea," Hermione said, and Astoria summoned a house elf.
"Firkin, I want you to procure some Muggle food. Some…" Astoria looked at Hermione.
"McVities digestive biscuits," she said, then followed quickly, "But how is a house elf going to…"
Astoria held up her hand, a gesture that could be construed as offensive, but Hermione was too curious now. "Do you understand Firkin?"
"Yes Madame, immediately." The house elf winked out and Astoria turned to answer Hermione's question.
"They usually go into storage areas. They will helpfully drop some Muggle money on the floor or some such, so it's not stealing, but this way we get what we need and the house elves get to be a bit sneaky, which they always relish."
Hermione could see how this would be so after her experiences with Dobby and the house elves at Hogwarts. She would find her room tidied during her SPEW days despite her stern insistence that they desist or let her pay them, with no way to stop it. "I haven't had much experience with house elves," Hermione admitted, and Astoria burst out laughing.
"I really shouldn't say this, but you really were quite made fun of at Hogwarts in Slytherin house. The house elf campaign was during my second year and I'm afraid to say even the first years were sniggering at you."
"As if I cared," Hermione said, chuckling slightly. "At least I bring my own amusement."
"In case you hadn't noticed, so do I," Astoria wryly noted as they both watching Scorpius, who was now swinging like a monkey from the bed curtains in his attempts to catch the seahorse as it flicked by.
Firkin popped back in and offered Hermione a plate with digestive biscuits fanned out. She took one bite and sat back cautiously.
"Tea?" Astoria asked, and Hermione took another bite and tentatively nodded. "Firkin, tea!"
When Astoria pulled Scorpius out, Hermione was eating her second biscuit and had sipped half a cup of tea. Pleased with her success, Astoria resolved to owl Draco immediately.
