As the grandfather clock near his wall struck 17:50, Lucius once again found himself mentally preparing to go twelve rounds with the Head of the DMLE.
Bones had been most irate after his declaration that the Drainers were responsible for the murders. She and her cronies had spent the better part of an hour trying to prove that Lucius' claim was unfounded and politically motivated. To his great amusement, she had failed to realize that nothing she said would make a difference in the long run. The Prophet was his, and unless she provided concrete evidence of who the killers actually were, the public would fall hook, line, and sinker for his lie. Cuffe and Skeeter had done an exceptional job of cultivating the public's fear of the Drainers these past two years, to the point where the word 'Drainer' was almost as dreaded as the name of his former master.
Buying majority shares in the Prophet had cost Lucius a good portion of his fortune, but it had proven to be worth every single knut. The power to influence people was priceless. Lucius had found that he could survive any political conflict as long as the wizarding public was in his corner, which was why he presided over the Prophet with an iron fist. The writers and editors had quickly learned that articles casting him or the DOBM in an unfavorable light were a one-way ticket to unemployment.
Lucius drummed his fingers against his desk, watching the hands of the clock strike 17:52. As had become his ritual before any important meeting in his office, he began taking in the many items that adorned his walls. First, he gazed fondly at the unmoving, gold-framed portrait of his father, Abraxas Malfoy, who had died of dragon pox well before the DOBM's inception. Next, with pride in his heart, he looked at the large Malfoy family crest, which he had personally commissioned the enchanters and welders at Diagon Alley to forge out of emerald and obsidian. The green and black colors were an homage to Salazar Slytherin, the man who Lucius tried his best to model himself after.
After briefly scanning the rest of the insignia, artifacts, and portraits around the room, his eyes finally fell on the object right behind him. He had made sure that it was hung directly opposite the door so that it would be the first thing someone saw when they entered his office. It was a painting that had been gifted to him by the legendary artist Oliver Cartwright about four years ago. It portrayed the Emergence - or, more precisely, Lucius' valor at the Emergence. The painting's background contained the two things that had become synonymous with the Department of Mysteries: the Veil of Death, and the corpse of the Big Fish. The foreground, meanwhile, depicted him bravely staring down the pale, gaunt form of the Little Fish. Several mangled corpses were strewn behind the Little Fish, while the remainder of the survivors, including Dumbledore, Snape, Bones, and Michael, all huddled in fear behind Lucius. Cartwright had drawn from Michael's published memory of the event since the Death Chamber itself was entirely off-limits to the public. However, Michael had spent the majority of the fight incapacitated on the ground, and no other survivor had been willing to fork over their memory of the incident. Therefore, Cartwright's rendition was mostly inaccurate - another fact that Lucius would never outwardly admit.
The painting was excellent propaganda. Not only did it portray him as a courageous leader, but it depicted Bones and Dumbledore as cowards, flinching away in the face of an unknown danger. Lucius made sure that it was published on the front page of the Prophet every so often, in order to remind the public why they should look to him, and not Dumbledore for leadership. The old goat had disputed the veracity of the painting numerous times, but unless he finally folded and handed over his memory of the Emergence, the public would continue to believe Cartwright's rendition. And because Lucius had been there, he knew the Headmaster would never do that.
He swiveled back around and briefly allowed himself to relax against the cozy, nylon fabric of his chair. In the end, it all came down to power, and the comfort and security that came with it. Not just for himself, but for Draco, who would one day succeed him as the head of the empire he was working to build. The thought of his son made him smile wistfully, at least until he glimpsed the time. 17:55. Five minutes until Bones had said she would arrive. Sighing, he forced himself to turn his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
Bones was right of course. There was no proof that the Drainers had been involved in the murders. In fact, up until last winter, there had been no proof that the Drainers even existed at all.
The lie had begun roughly two years ago, following the death of one of the first old blood patients, Eryn Ockle. Norgard and Wexley had done everything in their power to conceal any evidence that linked Lucius and the DOBM to her passing, but because of their interference, the DMLE had been unable to determine her cause of death.
Immediately after the conclusion of the investigation, Lucius had prohibited the Prophet from publishing the DMLE's report of Ockle's demise. Unfortunately, Bones had anticipated this and had instead given the report to The Quibbler, the pathetic excuse for a magazine that was run by Xenophilius Lovegood. Lovegood was a certified basket case, so Lucius had initially believed that the report wouldn't be taken seriously. He couldn't have been more mistaken.
In an attempt to undermine his control over the press, Cyrus Greengrass had announced his investment into The Quibbler, claiming that he intended to transform it into a reliable alternative news source. Despite Lucius' best efforts, many in the wizarding public had still held Cyrus in high esteem. As such, The Quibbler's number of subscribers had doubled nearly overnight, which Lovegood capitalized on by publishing the report of Ockle's death the very next day.
Fear and hysteria over the unexplained nature of Ockle's demise spread like wildfire, especially since her fellow old blood patient, Gale Morten, had also mysteriously died three months prior. By the end of 1992, the public's trust in the old blood had plummeted to a dangerously low level, which was reflected in the drastically declining rates of applications for transfusions. Realizing that the DOBM's future was in peril, Lucius had been forced to find a way to work with Talia's camp to save the department.
He had offered all manner of deals and favors to try and win them over, but it hadn't mattered, as Talia, Marina, and Michael had insisted on knowing the truth about Morten and Ockle. Backed into a corner, he had finally coughed up details about the symptoms Morten and Ockle exhibited before their deaths, though he made sure to leave out any mention of their beastly transformations. Talia Summers was as clever as they came, and he simply couldn't risk letting that knowledge fall into her opportunistic hands.
He had then confessed to being the one behind their murders, justifying it as an attempt to limit the knowledge of these symptoms. He had been confident that Talia wouldn't turn him in, because his arrest would mean the end of the DOBM. Sure enough, Talia had agreed to work with him once more, though only after he had magically sworn that he wasn't lying about the symptoms.
Her sister's cooperation had been a lot harder to obtain. Since she was one of the first old blood patients, Marina had demanded to know why she was not experiencing the same symptoms as Morten and Ockle. At the time, the knowledge of blood carriers was another tidbit he had wanted to keep from the Summers sisters, so he had lied and said that he wasn't sure. Instead, Lucius had suggested letting Saren and Michael study her blood, in order to determine if there was anything 'strange' about it. Marina had agreed to his proposition, not realizing that she had fallen into his trap. Lucius had needed to find a way to get his hands on more of Marina's carrier blood so that Saren could ascertain whether or not it was in fact a viable alternative to the old blood. And although they had been forced to obliviate Michael on numerous occasions, the discoveries Saren had made had been well worth it.
After Lucius had won the Summers sisters' support, they quickly agreed that with the exception of Marina, any future patients exhibiting symptoms would be hunted down and killed, before those symptoms had a chance to manifest themselves in the form of obsessive, addictive behavior. The reputation of the old blood could not be tarnished. Both Talia and Lucius had invested too much of their power into the DOBM to risk knowledge of any potential drawbacks of blood healing getting out. However, they couldn't have just left a trail of unexplained murders in their wake, or the public would really have begun to panic. As such, they started working to find a plausible scapegoat.
It had been challenging. Talia had quickly ruled out blaming Bones, Dumbledore, Cyrus, or Augusta Longbottom, as they would all have been able to swear upon their innocence. They had then moved on to lesser targets, such as Scrimgeour, Shacklebolt, and Elphias Doge. Although they were also innocent, they were not protected as well as the other four, meaning that Lucius and Talia could have arranged for a 'tragic accident' to occur before they got the chance to clear their name. However, Lucius ended up dismissing that strategy as well, as he had recognized the need for a more elusive source of blame - one that they could continuously frame for all of the murders they were going to commit.
Talia had subsequently suggested blaming Fenrir Greyback. The wayward werewolf had been at large for the better part of a decade, yet there still had been many reports of his continued influence and fear-mongering within the werewolf population. The reports had also mentioned that Greyback had become one of the DOBM's staunchest opponents, for he feared the old blood's ability to cure lycanthropy would spell the end of his kind. Talia had argued that between his werewolf pack and his loathing of the DOBM, Greyback had both the means and the motive to kill old blood patients, thereby making him the perfect scapegoat.
Because of his experience with the werewolf during the First Wizarding War, Lucius had disagreed. Fenrir Greyback was capable of many things, but being a cunning leader was not one of them. Lucius had warned Talia that framing Greyback would prompt a national manhunt for the werewolf. Unless Greyback had miraculously grown a brain since Lucius had last seen him, their scapegoat would have been behind bars in no time at all. The only reason why he hadn't already been in Azkaban was that he had likely learned through repeated trial and error that lying low was his best bet at avoiding capture. Additionally, Lucius hadn't wanted to risk the werewolf's imprisonment, for Greyback's influence prevented other lycanthropes from applying for a transfusion.
After Greyback had been dismissed, they had considered a few other people, but each had some sort of issue that made them unsuitable. It was only when they had finally run out of options that Lucius suggested pinning the murders on an imaginary entity. After all, something that didn't exist would be impossible to capture and unable to exonerate itself. And thus, the Drainers, a group of terrorists seeking to illegally gain access to the old blood by draining the blood from their victims, had been born.
The lie had been fragile at first. Despite the Prophet printing wave after wave of propaganda, many had refused to believe the existence of the Drainers. On top of that, The Quibbler's constant ridicule of the Prophet's reports had served to keep the public's fear directed towards the old blood. For a good two months, the DOBM had teetered on the brink of collapse.
Then the murders had begun in earnest. With each drained, bloodless corpse that popped up, the public's belief in the Drainers rapidly began to increase, until their existence became almost unquestionable. Unfortunately, shifting the public's paranoia away from the old blood and onto the Drainers had been only half the battle. In order to make the public believe that anyone applying for an old blood transfusion would be safe from the Drainers, Lucius and Talia had been forced to frame a DOBM worker as a Drainer informant.
They had ended up targeting Hestia Jones, as she was one of the few DOBM employees loyal to Dumbledore. After planting some evidence connecting her to the Drainers, they had informed Bones about Jones' 'suspicious behavior'. Bones had then found their planted evidence and had taken her into custody soon after. Sadly, Jones had died of an untraceable toxin while in custody, before she could be put under Veritaserum. Lucius had made the Prophet frame it so that her guilt was undeniable anyway.
Following Jones' death, the public's trust in the DOBM had gradually begun to return to what it had been before Ockle's demise. Although the murders had continued, Lucius and Talia had made sure to redirect all the blame to the DMLE by announcing that the victims the Drainers had killed were not actually old blood patients. And since one's status as an old blood patient had become confidential following the founding of the DOBM, no one had been able to refute them. Furthermore, despite The Quibbler's best efforts, the Prophet's wave of propaganda encouraging potential applicants to not succumb to their fear of the Drainers had caused the number of applications to skyrocket. Everything had been going well.
Then it happened. During the winter of 1993, Lucius had been enjoying a nice family evening with Draco and Narcissa when he received an urgent floo call from Saren. The Chief Healer had frantically informed him that another old blood patient had been slain and drained - except this time, neither Lucius nor Talia had ordered the kill. Upon conferring with Talia and Marina, he had realized that an unknown third party had been responsible. Both Lucius and Talia had wanted to move on and forget about the incident, believing it to have been an anomaly. However, after the second and third instances, they were forced to accept the truth: their lie had been too effective. The Drainers had become a reality.
The problem with this was that Lucius and Talia had laced the lie with truths to make it believable. For instance, Lucius had known beforehand that unless a patient became a blood carrier, their regular human blood would not mix with the old blood. Consequently, he and Talia had managed to recover a small quantity of old blood dregs from every patient they killed and drained. Unfortunately, that meant that whoever had assumed the role of the Drainers would also have access to the dregs if they replicated Saren's filtration process, thereby endangering the DOBM's monopoly over the blood and its secrets.
The lie had become more trouble than it was worth, for he simply could not risk anyone outside his inner circle ever learning the truth about the beasts. Yet at the same time, he couldn't risk any of the Drainers being captured, or Bones would find out that they had been responsible for only three deaths over the past two years. Unless they found a way to eliminate the Drainers without Bones' knowledge, he and Talia would be well and truly fucked.
But those grim thoughts could wait. Right now, he needed to find a way to convince Bones to let his claim about the Drainers slide, because although he controlled the Prophet, she still had the power to cause him numerous problems if she wanted to.
The moment the clock struck 18:00, a sharp, impatient knock sounded at the door. Rising to his feet, Lucius made his way over. He took in a deep breath to steel himself, before turning the handle.
Without sparing him a glance, Bones strode into the room, nearly bowling him over in the process.
Lucius scowled at her impudence. "Madam Bones. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Bones' eyes narrowed. "Save it, Malfoy. We both know this isn't a pleasure for either of us." She made her way toward the chair across his desk and sat down. Lucius turned to follow, attempting to shut the door behind him. However, before he could, a gloved hand shot out, propping the door open.
Lucius was unsure how to feel as the familiar, hulking form of Michael Brandon entered his office. On the one hand, he felt the urge to hex the man into oblivion for having the audacity to ever betray him. On the other hand, Michael's presence would likely make this a lot easier, as he was one of the few who knew the truth about the Drainers. Deciding to quell his violent impulses for now, Lucius favored him with a smile. "Head Unspeakable Brandon. I was unaware that you would be stopping by my office today. What is it I can do for you?"
Michael's expression betrayed nothing. "I am here for the same reason that Madam Bones is, Lord Malfoy: to discuss the Drainers." He walked over and sat down next to Bones, removing his black bowler hat in the process.
"I see," Lucius intoned gravely. He strutted back behind his desk and took a seat.
"You still have Cartwright's painting," Bones remarked, frowning.
"Yes. I find it helps to remind people of what leadership truly looks like."
Bones' frown deepened into a scowl. "It's ridiculous, is what it is. We both know you never stood up to the Little Fish like that. If you had, you would have been smashed to bits within seconds."
"Perhaps. Still, I'd say that my actions during that day warrant a little embellishment, wouldn't you agree Michael?"
"Of course, Lord Malfoy. I am eternally grateful to you for saving my life. But that has nothing to do with the matter at hand," Michael said evenly.
Lucius barely managed to withhold a snarl. "Very well," he said shortly, before looking at Bones. "You are the one who called this meeting, Madam. Would you care to explain what exactly you wish to discuss about the Drainers?"
"This morning, I simply wanted to go over my concerns about the DOBM as it relates to the Drainer investigation." She leaned forward. "But first, I need to know why the hell you decided to blame the Drainers for the deaths of Tonks, Everhart, and Alistair."
Lucius put on a confused expression. "I believe I already explained the reasons for my belief that they were responsible."
"The 'reasons' you mentioned don't add up," Bones replied coolly. "You've repeatedly claimed that the Drainers want to get their hands on the old blood. So why would they target Stonehenge?"
"I told you, to inspire terror. They are terrorists, after all. It's kind of in their job description."
Bones' eyes narrowed. "At a glance, that might seem like a satisfactory explanation. Yet it simply doesn't make sense why they would do this."
"You just spent the better part of an hour arguing that they weren't responsible. If you're only here to repeat yourself, then I must ask you to leave. My schedule is filled to the brim as it is, a fact you clearly weren't aware of this morning."
Bones ballooned. "If you had listened, you would know that Scrimgeour, Dawlish, and I only pointed to the lack of physical evidence that the Drainers were involved. If they wanted to spread terror, as you are suggesting, then they surely would have drained the bodies of blood, in order to claim credit for the kills. After all, nothing inspires more fear nowadays than the report of another bloodless corpse. Yet these three bodies, although brutalized, remain undrained." She took a deep breath. "But no, I am not here to repeat myself. I am here to try to understand why you blamed them despite the fact that they had no reason to commit these murders."
"That's not a fact, Madam Bones." He clasped his hands together and relaxed back into his chair. "But perhaps you could explain why you think it is." This should be good.
"For one, I have access to Tonks' medical records. I know you can't outright confirm it because of the DOBM's policies on patient confidentiality, but since her records were crystal clean, I'm pretty sure she wasn't an old blood patient." Bones looked towards Michael and indicated for him to continue.
"As for Alistair and Everhart, all Unspeakables are required to notify me if they receive an old blood transfusion so that the department can keep track of any unknown symptoms that might arise," Michael said. And so that Talia and I can kill them if those symptoms do arise.
"And did they notify you?" asked Bones.
"No."
"There you have it. None of the three victims were old blood patients, which means the Drainers didn't target them to get their hands on the blood. And, as I explained earlier, they didn't attack them to spread terror either," Bones said. "So, that begs the question: why would the Drainers attack Stonehenge, and why would they do so now?"
"Are you asking me that?" Lucius asked.
"Yes. You're the one who claimed they were the ones responsible, so I thought you maybe knew something that I didn't."
"I don't pretend to possess an understanding of these terrorists, or their decisions."
"Hmm. That's a shame." She folded her arms. "You see, I was hoping that you would have some inkling or intuition that could help me out. After all, you're a very smart man, Lord Malfoy. Smarter than me, I dare say."
Lucius arched an eyebrow, intrigued at the sudden compliments. "You flatter me, Madam Bones."
"Indeed." She paused briefly. "And since you are smarter, you would have arrived at the same conclusions about their involvement much earlier than me." She levied an accusatory finger at him. "You knew the Drainers weren't responsible, yet you blamed them all the same."
Now it had gotten interesting. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied.
Bones ignored him. "Let me explain how this looks from my point of view. Three people are mysteriously killed at Stonehenge. Two of them are Unspeakables loyal to Head Unspeakable Brandon, the brother-in-law of Talia Summers. The third is a Junior Auror whose parents are allies of Albus Dumbledore. Their bodies are discovered by a second Junior Auror who is in the service of Dryden Norgard, a known affiliate of yours." She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting. "Then, you and your allies begin baselessly attacking me, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Griselda Marchbanks at the scene of the crime, but only after making sure that members from the Prophet are present. Finally, you blame the Drainers for the murders, knowing perfectly well that such an accusation would severely increase the pressure on the DMLE."
"What are you trying to say, Madam?" Lucius interjected, not letting any emotion slip into his tone.
"I am pointing out that Summers, Dumbledore, and I will all be damaged by this incident, while you will for the most part get off scot-free. It all just seems a bit too convenient."
"Are you insinuating that I had something to do with the murders at Stonehenge?" asked Lucius slowly.
Bones shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but her gaze never wavered. "Yes."
Lucius scoffed. The time for niceties was over. "Your incompetence never fails to amaze me, Bones. It's no wonder that the DMLE hasn't made any progress on the Drainer investigation in two years."
Michael intervened before she could respond. "Come now, Lord Malfoy. Such hostility is unnecessary." He turned to Bones. "And as for you, the accusation you are making is not one made lightly. Lord Malfoy deserves a chance to defend himself."
"He'll get that chance right now," Bones responded venomously, her eyes never straying away from Lucius. "I want you to prove that you had nothing to do with this. Swear on your magic, right here, right now, or I promise I'll do my best to make your life a living hell."
Michael glanced nervously at Lucius. "Madam Bones, as the Head of the DMLE, you should know that anyone has the right to refuse a magical oath or vow unless they are on trial. You cannot punish Lord Malfoy if he refuses to comply."
Lucius sighed. "It's all right, Michael. I'll do it."
Both Bones and Michael looked surprised as he withdrew his elm wand from the snake-topped walking stick that lay next to his desk. Pushing his chair backward, he slowly stood up.
"I, Lucius Malfoy, swear upon my magic that I played no part in the deaths of Nymphadora Tonks, Tobias Everhart, and Jakob Alistair." A flash of light signified that the vow had gone into effect. Without wasting a beat, he raised his wand again and cast a simple Lumos charm.
Bones gaped at the light that shone from the tip of his wand. Lucius, meanwhile, could only curse his luck that she hadn't accused him back at Stonehenge, as it would have provided him the perfect opportunity to embarrass her in front of both her underlings and the press.
She eventually recovered. "My deepest apologies, Lord Malfoy."
Lucius looked her up and down. "I don't want your apologies, Bones. I want you to find the Drainers, as soon as possible," he lied. He glanced at Michael as he sat back down. "And I also want you two to work together and find out who the killer actually is."
Bones did a double take. "So you admit the Drainers had nothing to do with this?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." He sheathed his wand. "I told you already Madam, I do not possess an understanding of the Drainers or their decision-making."
"So why did you blame them then?"
Lucius rolled his eyes. He hated having to explain obvious things. "Do you not remember the unrest after the Bloody Solstice? The panic when The Quibbler released your report of Eryn Ockle's death? The crowd that stormed the Ministry on the day after the Emergence?"
"Of course I remember, but what does that have to do with the Drainers?"
"Everything," said Lucius. He looked at Michael and saw that a flash of anxiety had crossed the Unspeakable's normally calm face. Lucius couldn't help but smirk at his unease. His worries that Bones would catch onto the lie were misplaced. She was too dense by half to ever suspect that the group of terrorists she had been diligently hunting was nothing more than a spawn of Lucius' imagination.
"You see, before the Bloody Solstice, we wizards liked to believe that we were in control. That through our magic, we had the power to tackle any problem, hurdle any obstacle, overcome any challenge. The key to this power was our ability to conquer the unknown. With the exception of a few harmless trinkets and baubles in the Department of Mysteries - no offense, Michael - we were able to dissect anything and everything, all in the pursuit of knowledge.
"But ever since the Bloody Solstice, we have been assaulted with a litany of mysteries too astronomical to ignore. Stonehenge. The Big Fish. The Little Fish. The Red Ward. Even the old blood itself. And all of these mysteries remain unsolved, unconquered. That is why the public panicked - they were afraid of what they could not understand.
"The Drainers, on the other hand, are no great mystery. Their motives are simple, straightforward, and easy to comprehend. Yes, the public is terrified of them and their brutality, and rightfully so. However, their fear of the Drainers pales in comparison to that of the unknown, because the unknown threatens the notion that we are in control; the notion that we are the absolute masters of our fate, our lives. So yes, I blamed the Drainers - but only because I knew the public's reaction would be ten times worse if they found out about another inexplicable disaster like the Bloody Solstice."
Bones leaned back in her seat and mulled over his words. Michael, meanwhile, merely looked relieved that Lucius hadn't spilled the beans about the Drainers.
"Loathe as I am to admit it, you're right," she finally said. "The news of three unexplained murders at Stonehenge would cause quite a racket, and the DMLE would be stretched thin attempting to keep the peace." She clasped her hands together and sent him a small frown. "Although I don't appreciate the way you handled the situation at Stonehenge, I now at least understand what you were trying to do."
Lucius put on a solemn face. "I don't want to be your enemy, Madam Bones. I just want the Drainers to be caught at all costs."
"On that, we can agree." Bones sighed and leaned back into her seat. "Which brings me to the reason I asked you for a meeting in the first place."
You didn't ask for anything, bitch. "Yes?"
"As you well know, about ten or so months ago, Hestia Jones was arrested on suspicion of being a Drainer informant. Unfortunately, she died in custody before she could be tried under Veritaserum, yet her death hasn't stopped the Drainers from killing people. Have you considered the possibility that there might be another mole in the DOBM?"
Yes. "No. As I've repeatedly explained, although I can't outright reveal who has and who hasn't received a transfusion, I can say that a good portion of the Drainers' victims these past ten months have not been old blood patients," he lied. "If there was an informant, that wouldn't be the case."
"Still, another staff-wide sweep of the DOBM wouldn't hurt, especially in the wake of the heat the DMLE is about to receive due to the murders at Stonehenge," Bones argued.
"Absolutely not," said Lucius vehemently. "It's not the DOBM's fault that you haven't caught the Drainers yet. And after the fiasco that was the last sweep, I will not approve another one."
Unsurprisingly, Bones did not look happy. "That 'fiasco' yielded a suspect that was almost certainly guilty. If you want me to go along with your lie about the Drainers, then you will allow this."
Michael cleared his throat. "With respect, Madam Bones, I agree with the Chief Warlock. A DMLE investigation into the DOBM would do more harm than good."
Bones shot him an annoyed look. "Explain."
"A second staff-wide sweep would cause the public to suspect that there is a mole in the DOBM, regardless of the sweep's outcome. That in turn would lead to increased distrust of the DOBM, which is probably what the Drainers want."
"Exactly. You'd be playing right into their hands," Lucius added. Michael's reasoning wasn't exactly flawless, but he hoped it would be enough to convince Bones.
She remained silent for a few moments before answering. "Fair enough. No DOBM investigation for now. But if even one more person dies of a Drainer attack, I will reopen this matter, regardless of whether or not they were an old blood patient."
Lucius shook his head. "No need for that. I am perfectly capable of conducting an internal investigation of my own department. If I find anything suspicious, I will notify you." He would not under any circumstances give Bones an excuse to put his employees under Veritaserum, like she had attempted to do the first time.
Bones glared at him. "I decide if there's a need for the DMLE to investigate the DOBM, not you." Her gaze softened, and she let out another sigh. "But for now, the DMLE will focus on finding and capturing the Drainers, and whoever it is that murdered Tonks, Everhart, and Alistair." She pushed her chair back and stood.
Lucius and Michael exchanged a look. "So you will go along with the story that the Drainers were responsible?" Lucius asked. He discreetly slid his hand across to his cane, preparing to reach for his wand if she did not answer the way he wanted her to.
"I don't like lying, Malfoy. But I like widespread panic and unrest even less. So yes, I will go along with your story, even though it means my department will get the brunt of the blame for this incident." She cast him a tired look. "Maybe have the Prophet go easy on the DMLE for once. Our investigations would be a lot easier if we didn't have to worry about the public calling for our heads."
Not a chance. "I'll talk to Cuffe," he promised tersely.
"That would be greatly appreciated," Bones replied. Without another word, she turned and strode out of his office.
Lucius slowly brought his hand back to his lap. "I hate that woman," he spat, once he was sure that she was out of earshot.
"As do I, Lucius. Nevertheless, she raised some valid concerns." Michael responded.
"I know," Lucius said. "The only problem is that if there is in fact a mole, I have no idea who it would be. It's possible, probable even, that the Drainers merely inferred that the three people they killed so far were old blood patients."
"Perhaps." Michael ran a hand through his brown curls. "I know you only brought it up to try and get her off your back, but it wouldn't hurt for you to conduct an internal investigation of the DOBM."
Lucius frowned. "I can't speak for Marina, but Saren and I have taken great pains to vet every single employee in our divisions."
Michael shrugged. "That may be. Still, it's better to be safe than sorry."
Oh, how he missed the days when Michael never questioned his judgment. "You know what, you're right. Additional background checks couldn't hurt, especially for the three stooges your wife forced onto the approval committee," he said venomously. Perhaps he could use an investigation to manufacture an excuse to get rid of Tuckle, Livingston, and Joshua.
Michael hastily beat a retreat, knowing fully well what he was capable of. "I meant no offense, of course. It's ultimately your decision."
"And my decision is that I will not waste my time carrying out a fruitless investigation."
"Very well," Michael said resignedly. After a moment, he stood up and reached for his bowler hat. He started to leave, but as he reached the doorframe, he paused. "Out of curiosity, Lucius, who do you think is responsible for the murders at Stonehenge?"
Lucius debated revealing his thoughts on the matter, but eventually decided that it wouldn't do him any harm. "I honestly don't know," he admitted. "Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted Tonks to die, and neither Longbottom nor Greengrass would ever resort to such means. As for your sister-in-law, well, you and I both know that she is willing to kill anyone in her path."
"As are you," interjected Michael coolly.
Lucius ignored him. "But I don't see what she would gain from this, so I doubt she was responsible." He tapped his finger against the desk, trying to brainstorm other potential suspects. "I suppose it could have been Sebastian Delacour or one of his ICW lackeys, seeking to destabilize Britain before negotiations begin. But after Rochefort's Raid, I highly doubt he would risk such a move. And nothing I can think of explains the use of Muggle weapons, or the fact that the wards remained undamaged." He stifled a growl, annoyed at the lack of knowledge and control he had over the situation. "What do you think?"
"I think that this may yet be another unsolvable mystery, similar to the Bloody Solstice and the Emergence."
"You're the Head Unspeakable. It's your job to solve these mysteries."
"If that was true, I would have been fired ages ago. No, my job is to study these types of mysteries. And believe me, I've spent more time studying Stonehenge than you can possibly imagine. I'll do my best to find out what happened, but my gut tells me that nothing we do will work, similar to our research into the Bloody Solstice." He paused. "If I had to guess, I would say that the killer likely materialized inside the monument, much like the Big Fish did. Yet that train of thought only leads to more questions, not answers."
Michael sighed and put on his bowler hat, adjusting it to make sure it fit snugly on his head. "Whatever the truth, it likely died with Tonks, Everhart, and Alistair. But that won't stop me from doing everything in my power to dig it up from its grave. I'll notify you and Talia if I find anything." He briefly readjusted his jet-black robes and gave a curt nod of farewell. "Have a good evening, Lucius."
Lucius returned the nod. "You as well, Michael."
As Michael strode out of his office, Lucius stared a hole into his back. He would never forgive the Head Unspeakable for his betrayal, but he was still worth much more to him alive than dead. In any case, his scheme with Jerome Blocquin would hopefully bear fruit soon enough. Lucius smirked in anticipation, already imagining the numerous plans he could enact with the Department of Mysteries once again at his disposal. Eventually though, after a good few minutes of plotting, a single thought pushed its way to the front of his mind.
Britain will be mine.
