Thank you for the reviews, kudos, bookmarks, and anyone reading. This has been a busy week. I threw out my back after tripping down a flight of steps. I will probably be updating on Mondays from now on because my weekends just get to busy :( I hope you enjoy!
Narcissa was in such a state of disbelief that she cared not how improper it was to keep her mouth agape. Each line of the slanderous article impaled her like a fiery poker.
On the 17th of December Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy was spotted walking in close proximity to the newly appointed defense against the dark arts professor, Professor Quirinus Quirrell. The pair bustled into the Leaky Cauldron together, arm in arm, to shelter from the rain outside that clearly ruined their little date. Narcissa Malfoy continuously looked around, but was suddenly at ease when she discovered there was no one else in sight. They conversed for several minutes until Mr. Lucius Malfoy's name was brought up. When asked how he was, she replied he was as well as to be expected in a particularly depressing tone. In an obvious attempt to cement their relationship, they began to hold hands in joint sorrow that Mr. Lucius Malfoy was still alive and married to her. It has previously been speculated that Narcissa Malfoy was having an affair after she left her husband for an hour or more at the Winter Charity Ball held in the atrium at the Ministry of Magic. She was seen talking to a younger man and woman, but eventually decided the thought of breaking them up was for another day, and was seen slinking away with an older man. She has been known to hang around a more male dominated crowd, and I think we can finally say why. So, for all you bachelor's out there, Narcissa Malfoy is available. Just don't mention it to her husband.
Finishing up reading that, she flung the paper from herself as if it had burned her. Her usual paleness had transitioned into a flustered pink as she dug her nails into the palm of her hand.
Gazing up at Lucius who had remained seated on the bed, not saying a word, she finally said,
"Lucius, please believe me. I would never think to cheat on you, especially not with the likes of Quirrell. I don't know where she got that–!"
"Why did you neglect to tell me you met with Quirrell?"
"It must have slipped my mind! Lucius, please," her eyes begged as they held unshed tears in them, "he bumped into me at the apothecary and mentioned Draco surviving a mountain troll. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. Please," she said softer, trying to grab his hand. He yanked it from her grasp as she drew her legs up to herself and wrapped her arms around them as though to protect the emotional attack on her heart.
"Why would a mountain troll be at Hogwarts, Narcissa?! Does that even remotely make a shred of sense?"
"I don't know! I don't know, Lucius! It's a magical creature at a magical institution. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility!" Her tone fluctuated from anger to pleading.
"But a mountain troll?! Are you aware of how dangerous those are?!"
"Yes, I am because I, unlike you, passed my Care of Magical Creatures NEWTs!"
"Well, you, unlike me, have an entire article dedicated to how you are off sleeping around."
"You are unbelievable, do you know that? You were there at the charity ball! I told you where I was going and what I was doing!" she raised her voice.
"You were gone for an exceptionally long time."
"I was talking to colleagues. That young man and woman are not even a couple. They are laboratory partners! That older man was retrieving documents for me that I needed."
"I didn't see you holding any papers when you rejoined me."
"Right, let me simply display secret documents out in the open. That really defeats the entire purpose of them being secret, Lucius," she rolled her eyes and scoffed. Her anxiety was transitioning into anger.
"Fine, but what explanation do you have for holding hands?"
"We're not! Look," she shoved the Daily Prophet in his face, "his hand is on top of mine. I'm not reciprocating. Does it look like I'm enjoying it? Do I look remotely interested in the conversation? He was asking a lot of questions about you as a death eater–"
"And what did you say? Oh, it's alright, I'm into the dark arts," Lucius rolled his eyes sarcastically as he crossed his arms over his chest. Immediately after the words escaped his mouth, he regretted them.
"How dare you!" Narcissa snarled, "how dare you!" She unwrapped herself and pushed off of the bed, but Lucius gently caught hold of her upper arm. She attempted to twist it from his grasp, but he was unrelenting. "Let go of me!"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that," he sighed, his voice calming down significantly. "Please tell me what happened. I promise I will not interrupt this time."
Taking several deep breaths to relax her anger, she finally said, "I bumped into him. He told me that Draco had survived a mountain troll. I was worried. He bought me a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. He continuously asked questions about your death eater status and my department of mysteries research. I left because all I wanted to know was about Draco, but he wasn't interested in talking about that. The whole interaction couldn't have lasted more than 30 minutes. That is all that happened, Lucius. You can go and get the veritaserum from my study, and I will tell you the exact same thing I told you now. You can use occlumency, and I will let you in without even the slightest boundary. You can even use the Cruciatus Curse and torture me until I break. Just, please, believe me," she said quietly, burying her face in his chest and surrendering to the exhaustion of the argument. He brought both of his hands to her back, and rubbed her shoulder blades up and down.
"I do! I'm so terribly sorry, I don't know how I could ever have considered this to be true. You have my full permission to hex me. In the meantime, I'll go to the Daily Prophet and inquire how they got this story and demand they remove it."
"I may take you up on the hexing for being such an idiot" she grinned before continuing, "but removing the story, at this point, will achieve nothing. Countless people have no doubt already read it."
"Then I'll obliviate every last one," Lucius said, resting his chin on her head as she giggled at the thought, "but realistically, you may have to settle for this Rita Skeeter woman being fired."
"Don't waste your time, Lucius," she smiled up at him, "as long as you don't believe the article I don't care what the rest of the world believes."
"I know you don't, Cissa, but I'm worried about the men who are going to read that article and believe it. I just don't want you to get hurt." She grimaced as she mentally kicked herself for not thinking of that consequence. For not thinking about how the world functioned beyond her little manor of happiness. For not thinking in general. More importantly, she was mulling over the indisputable fact that the only people in the Leaky Cauldron were herself, Qurriell, and Tom.
Was the entire thing a set up by Qurriell? But that wouldn't make any sense, she deduced, what would he gain by selling that story to Rita Skeeter? Or, she thought, was it more about what I have to lose? She was brought out of her trance by the clanging of hangers as Lucius yanked a traveling cloak from the closet.
"Where are you going?" she asked as it was nearly 8:30pm.
"The Daily Prophet. They will be running a new story by morning."
"Wait, Lucius," she said, trailing behind him as he descended the steps, "I'm as furious as you are, but that is exactly why you should wait until morning."
"I'm not going to kill anyone, Cissa! I am simply going to make sure they will never be able to type or pick up another quill again."
"That is what I was worried about."
"I'm only joking. I am merely going to have a little chat with the head editor. I swear on merlin."
"Okay," Narcissa responded, skeptically as he stepped outside and disapperated with a loud crack.
Once he arrived outside the newsroom of the Daily Prophet, he crafted his best scowl as he walked through the revolving door. Strutting up to a middle aged witch with eccentric red glasses and curly blonde hair, he said in a cool tone, "Can you point me in the direction of your editor in chief?"
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, tapping her quill against a pad of paper.
"Of course," Lucius feigned offendedness, "tell him Lucius Malfoy is here."
The woman's eyes grew two sizes as she bewitched a piece of paper into a paper airplane, soaring off at lightning speed. Another paper zoomed back about two minutes later.
"His door is third on the right," she said, less confidently this time. Lucius nodded as he walked down the hall, his cloak billowing behind him despite the lack of wind. Once he reached the office, he saw a squirrely, young man with thinning brown hair talking to someone in the fire. Without knocking, Lucius entered the office and rang the silver bell on his desk. As the man turned around, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Bidding a quick farewell to whomever he was conversing with, he spun his chair around to face Lucius.
"Um, Mr. Malfoy, uh, what…what can I do for you?" he asked, stumbling over his words and struggling to complete his thought in one breath as he fumbled with his wand before dropping it completely with a loud clang on the wooden floor.
"It has been brought to my attention about a certain article written about my wife."
"I didn't write that!" he interjected, sinking lower into his seat under Lucius' glare.
"I am aware," Lucius replied, agitated at the interruption, "but yet, it was you who still chose to print it. On the front page no less." He gazed down at the young man's foot that was inconspicuously trying to drag the wand back to him.
"Well, what do you expect me to do about that now? Everyone's probably already read it."
"I want you to run another article in the morning's edition detailing how Rita Skeeter is nothing more than a power hungry journalist, who has a history of publishing lies."
"I can't do that. She's my top writer!" Lucius took a few steps closer to his desk, kicking his wand from under his foot causing it to fly across the room and hit the corner.
"How much would a story like that cost?"
"What do you mean?" the man narrowed his eyes.
Lucius brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose to calm his irritation, "What an absolute simpleton," he muttered under his breath before saying, "How much would I have to pay you to write a story like I just outlined?"
"I can't be bought. I am about the integrity of the truth! Whether it is harsh or not is not up to–"
"10,000 galleons."
"Done. It will be printed in tomorrow morning's issue as long as I see the money." Lucius slammed a black velvet sack on his desk as he greedily sifted through to make sure all ten thousand galleons were there. As soon as he confirmed, he nodded his head and said, "Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Malfoy."
"One more thing," Lucius held up a finger.
"Yes?"
"If I ever see another slanderous article about my wife in your paper, I will personally make sure that is the last paper you publish. Understood?" The man shrunk below his gaze, shaking his head as he timidly grabbed the sack.
"Then I shall hope I never see you again." With that, Lucius exited the office and the building, hearing the faint, "Have a wonderful night!" from the receptionist.
As he reappeared in his and Narcissa's said bedroom, he heard her joking voice say, "I don't see any blood."
"Don't act so surprised, darling."
"Let me guess, you bribed him."
"What better weapon than money? A small price to pay for your happiness."
"Always the romantic," she smiled, shaking her head, "Don't forget, we are picking Draco up in the afternoon."
"We only have one child, Cissa. I assure you, I can remember," he replied, mockingly appalled.
…
The next afternoon, the Malfoy pair left earlier than needed while the Hogwarts Express arrived later than expected. Neither bothered the pair as they watched their son happily bound off the train, his luggage taking a beating from the amount of uncare he was providing it.
"...and guess what? Marcus Flint said I should try out for Seeker next year! He said I could use a bit of work, but I'm sure it's not that much." Draco had rambled nonstop about the many victories of Slytherin ranging from quidditch to potions to house points until they returned to their home.
"We also learned how to brew Skele Gro. It was really simple too! So next time I injure myself, I can just whip up–" Lucius rolled his eyes to gaze over at Narcissa as though pleading with her to get Draco to shut up for two seconds.
"That's amazing, Draco! I'm really proud of you. Would you like to help me sort some of my potion ingredients, so we can let your father get back to work? You can tell me all of your stories!"
"Ew, no!" Draco scrunched his nose, "last time I did, my hands smelled like garlic for a week."
"What if I promised to play any game you want?"
"You'd already do that," Draco pointed out as Lucius rubbed his hand down his face.
"What if I promised you a trip to Knockturn Alley?" Lucius finally said as both Narcissa and Draco gave him a look of surprise.
"Okay!" Draco answered, practically leaping for joy as Narcissa glared at Lucius.
"C'mon, mum!" he said, dashing off towards her study.
"You have just earned yourself a second round of hexing," Narcissa scolded him before a smile broke through.
"I didn't specify when," Lucius smirked, "I will allow you to decide when is appropriate."
"How cunning," she returned his smirk and walked towards her study where Draco was already enthusiastically pulling vials off the shelf and setting them on the tabletop.
"Professor Snape says I have your potion abilities. Says I definitely don't get it from father." Narcissa involuntarily let out a giggle.
"What's your favorite potion you have learned so far?"
"Forgetfulness potion alright. I bet galleons someone's been slipping it into Longbottom's pumpkin juice since the day he was born."
"Did you learn how to brew it?"
"Yeah, but Professor Snape made us all test it out at the end. The ones who were successful forgot how they brewed it. I was one of them."
"That's brilliant, Draco!" Narcissa said, taking out a medley of toadstools from the bottom drawer, "Can I ask you something?"
"Course," Draco said, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Why didn't you write to me about the mountain troll?"
"Oh right! I nearly forgot about that. Wasn't much to write about. Everyone was told to go back to the common room, but of course, Potter and Weasley just had to go after it themselves. Crabbe, Goyle, and I watched them break away, so we figured, we might as well go watch the action."
"So you didn't fight it?"
"Haha, nah, but I should have. They racked up about 50 house points for stunning it. Anyone could have done that! Wait a minute, how did you know about that if I didn't tell you?"
"I spoke with a professor and they mentioned it."
"Oh," Draco said plainly, retrieving a vial organizer and stuffing various tubes in it, "well yeah, that's all that happened. No one seems to know where it came from. Professor Quirrell interrupted our Halloween feast to tell us a troll was in the castle, and then he fainted. It was hilarious until everyone realized he was being serious."
Narcissa was about to ask another question when she heard a knock, but Lucius was already inside before waiting for her response. Quietly, he set the Daily Prophet in front of her with a smirk on his face.
Rewriting Reality: Lead Journalist caught in legal troubles
Lead journalist Rita Skeeter has been caught accepting multiple bribes from multiple sources to write and edit slanderous articles about many powerful families. She has forged conversation accounts by erasing and editing single words together to create what she wants them to say. Furthermore, she has illegally obtained private conversations between members of the Wizengamot, employees of various Ministry of Magic departments, and business and trading negotiations for years. Due to this, she has been fined 20,000 galleons for any damages she may have caused as a direct result of her misleading articles and has been given a one year probation where a tracking spell will be placed on her to ensure she is not participating or aiding in anything journalism related. The Ministry has deemed her a low threat to national security. We, at the Daily Prophet, strive to report the truth with the utmost detail and pride ourselves on the integrity of our reporting methods. This incident does not reflect how our journalists are trained nor does it reflect our beliefs on how the news should be reported. It is our promise to never have a circumstance like this again, and we will continue extensive supervision to abide by that promise.
As Narcissa grinned, holding the paper out in front of her, Draco peered over her shoulder, standing on his tiptoes in order to read the article.
"20,000 galleons? That's pocket money! And she put our security at risk?! The ministry's a joke."
"Draco, a journalist's salary, even at the Daily Prophet, is around 2,500 galleons and that is before you factor in other costs such as food, drinks, and housing. It may take her 20 years to pay that off," Narcissa explained patiently as Draco's eyes widened in horror.
"What'll happen if she can't pay it?"
"It will default to prison time, I would assume," Narcissa responded, folding the paper and handing it back to Lucius, who squeezed her hand before removing the paper from it.
"For how long?" Draco pushed.
"If I recall, it is one year for every 5,000 galleons, so about four years."
"How much are you making, mum?"
"About 3,120 galleons."
"So how are we affording this mansion?"
"We have generational wealth," Lucius stepped in, pocketing the newspaper, "your mother and I both do. It will not be running out anytime soon. We also own a winery outside of Bordeaux, which is doing very well by all accounts, so we would have that steady income."
"So how much do we have then?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"321,285,145 galleons as of right now," Lucius responded nonchalantly.
"Woah!" Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. To disrupt the comfortable silence that hung in the air for less than a minute, the flames of the marble fireplace erupted in emerald as Ignatia and Blaise Zabini emerged.
"Blaise!" Draco shouted, "Didn't know I would be seeing you so soon. Do you want to go play quidditch out back?" Draco, for as much as he enjoyed rambling to Narcissa, despised organizing ingredients and was looking for any excuse to take a premature break.
"I suppose," Blaise said with mock boredom.
"Put on your winter robes, Draco!" Narcissa yelled after him as he practically dragged Blasie out of the study.
"Ignatia," Lucius nodded, before leaving Narcissa with her friend.
Restoring her attention onto the unexpected disruption, she said in a threatening voice, "Ignatia, I swear, if this is about that stupid Prophet article–"
"No! Even better," Ignatia cut her off and gripped Narcissa's shoulder's excitedly, "I think I know how to complete that spell."
"Are you serious?! As in, this is not some little joke of yours to watch me get disgustingly excited only to say, 'You should have seen the look on your face' or providing me instructions for the spell only for it to result in my teeth transforming into snake fangs."
"First off, I would never do something like that," she replied, refraining herself from allowing a snicker to pass as she remembered multiple instances that contradicted that statement, "And second off, will you quit chiding me for three seconds and look at what I have," she withdrew a book from her purse, "I was at a bookshop yesterday when I came across this."
"Shedding Light on the Properties of Dark Matter. What's dark matter?"
"No clue, but the part I wanted to show you is here," she flipped through the pages at a rapid pace, "cold dark matter. Listen, it all makes sense. These particles already exist in the air and can function as stand-in electrons or reconstruct preexisting electrons into cold dark matter."
"Hm," Narcissa read the page Ignatia was pointing at, her fingers shaking, "if we can envision capturing and programming one of the particles within the core of the s orbital, do you think that would work?"
"I think we need to come up with some wand motion to find the matter first."
"What if we make one final circle in a counterclockwise motion to symbolize a negative? It says here they supposedly have negative mass."
"We could try!" Narcissa created the three circles from before and ran her wand in a counterclockwise motion. Muttering the incantation, she flung the spell at the goblet, which disappeared.
"I have a feeling you vaporized it," Ignatia covered her mouth as she laughed. Narcissa flicked her wand to reverse the damage.
"What are we missing? Hold on, I need to put it around the orbital, I think." Narcissa repeated the motions but after completing the counterclockwise motion, she flicked her wand up. Taking a deep breath, she said the incantation with confidence before casting the spell, once again, at the goblet. The bright platinum transitioned to an almost tarnished brown and then transitioned to the most dazzling gold. Narcissa and Ignatia both stared wide eyed as Narcissa kept her wand in the air. Ignatia dashed over to her and tightly embraced her.
"Try it on something else! Try it on something else!" she shook Narcissa, who was still in a trance-like state. Pointing her wand at the golden clock on the window's seat, she repeated the spell. This time, the gold seemed to drip away as though it was mourning its own death, revealing a spectacular silver that looked of the highest quality.
"One step closer to immortality, darling!" Ignatia bounded up and down.
"No, we are practically where we were before. This spell has nothing to do with immortality."
"You are such a pessimist. I will be drowning in riches, my name will be immortal."
This shattered Narcissa's dissociation to which she turned to Ignatia, "We mustn't speak of this to anyone. Do you understand?"
"Luckily for you, I'm not in the business of helping other people become richer," Ignatia smirked, drawing her fingers into her palm, "let me try the spell." Narcissa reversed the effects on the goblet, returning it to its former, platinum glory.
"Were you thinking about anything?"
"What I was forming with my wand. I thought about a sphere that attracted a white stone to its center."
"Strange. Alright," Ignatia mimicked Narcissa's wand work, but the goblet transformed into a tesseract. "Clearly I've done it correctly," she said sarcastically with a hint of agitation.
"Did you imagine the sphere spinning?"
"Did you mention that the sphere was spinning?"
"Why would it be stationary?"
"Why wouldn't it be! Ugh," Ignatia reclaimed her stance and flicked her wand once again. The goblet melted onto the table top. "You are a horrible teacher," she stated.
"You're a terrible student," Narcissa shrugged as Ignatia playfully swatted her arm.
...
The holidays went by quicker than Narcissa could comprehend, and before long, she was sending Draco back to school with as much sweets and cakes as he could fit in his trunk. She had taken two weeks off from work to spend time with her family and focus on the construction of a second philosopher's stone, but she had received correspondence from L that she was needed back at work. So the next morning, she swiped into the lab and greeted her benchmate who appeared to be brewing multiple vials of low grade love potion. L motioned for her to come over to their desk.
"You have been cranking out a lot of curriculum. Need a change of pace?"
"You have my attention."
"Wonderful," L leaped up and led them over to what most in her department affectionately christened 'the rubbish rack', "there are hundreds upon thousands of memories here. For research that was abandoned, for archival purposes, and other things I'm not even aware of. But it's taking up space and magical energy. If you could sort through these and discard ones that are useless, more than 50 years old, or labeled with the name of an Unspeakable that is no longer in this department."
"How do I discard them?"
"See that clear tube. Dump the memory in there. Its energy will be destroyed and that's pretty much it. Think you can handle this?"
"I'm not sure. This sounds very complicated," Narcissa replied sarcastically.
"Fantastic, " L brought their hands together and returned to a stack of paperwork on their desk. The pair of them communicated almost exclusively by snide remarks to each other. Shaking her head, Narcissa picked up a random glass vial off of the shelf labeled 'Merope'. Below that name was another. 'Atticus' but that last name has been smudged. Dumping the silver contents into the pensive in front of her, she forced her head below the watery surface.