Chapter VIII
An Open File
A SOFT MOAN echoed through the room, dark but for the faint glow of moonlight. I watched as two bodies writhed on the bed, painted in faint silvers and blues of the night. Her eyes were violet, her raven black hair pooled like a halo on the sheets around her.
A black snake writhed on her forearm.
She cupped her breast and bit her lip as her head was thrown back in a scream of pleasure. The sheets beneath them glinted dark and wet.
Blood, I thought numbly.
I watched, frozen in morbid fascination. Watched as the blood pooled on the sheets, their limbs twisted at odd angles.
Her hair was pale blonde, her eyes vacant and staring at the man standing above her. Still, like a statue.
Hopeless.
There were bruises on her body, dark violet welts glaring at me from her smooth skin. Her clothes hung on her in torn rags. Blood ran from her forearm, where the word 'MUDBLOOD' was carved in sharp, jagged lines. Distant screaming drifted into the room.
The door creaked open and light blazed into the room, into my eyes—
I awoke with a start. My sheets and nightclothes clung to my skin, drenched in sweat. I listened to my racing heartbeat as a tear ran down my cheek. My hand was numb from where I had slept on it, my mind muddy as paint water.
Soft, blue-green light danced across my face, wiggling as it passed through the lake above and tickled my cheek.
My feet were freezing cold; my skin clammy and sticky.
I remembered the dream, vivid flashes and sounds. I ran a finger along the inside of my numb forearm and sighed in relief when all I felt was smooth skin. I curled up on my side as the silence seeped inside me like a roiling occamy, strangling me with its jagged claws until I could barely breathe.
Damn it all. It was just a stupid dream. I refused to be reduced to an emotional wreck because of some stupid dream! I threw the curtains of my bed open and rolled out into the dormitory. All the other girls were still asleep, thank Morgana for small mercies. I padded across the dormitory and into the washroom in a daze.
The shower was scalding hot as it washed away the sweat. I stood there, letting it beat down on my face, trying to rinse out all the things I did not want to think about. It did not help; did not wash away the wrongness that clung to me, struggling for some desperate hold.
I remembered Bella's sultry smile; her perverse excitement at going to the raid. Did father know what she was up to? I was not sure whether he cared enough to concern himself with whatever perfect little Bella was up to, so long as she did everything father wished her to do. Like marry Lestrange, I thought with a pang of sadness.
Ana was supposed to have married him, before—
Fuck you, father, you and your little schemes! I am not your bitch to command, and I will not be Lestrange's, either. Do not try to find me, Ted, or our family, or Morgana help me I will burn you where you stand.
Even at fourteen, I had known that her family no longer included us. Any of us.
I slid down the wall and sat on the porcelain floor of the shower as my heart wrenched. It would be two years since I had last seen her come Yule, I realised as the first tears started to fall. I barely noticed, what with the amount of water running down my face.
Had I really been so naïve? Had I really been such a bad sister, that she would throw me away like the rest of them?
Yes.
The word echoed in my head, reverberating to the beat of the water droplets. I pulled my legs in and buried my face in my knees as I cried my heart out. For my sisters. Both of them.
I cried because it took her leaving for me to realise what a fucked up family we were; what a bad sister I had been to her.
And I cried for Bella, too. I had no idea what I would do should we come across each other. The thought first occurred to me yesterday, and I still drew just as much a blank as the day before, despite the hours I spent mulling over the issue. I had made sure that I would be there, fighting with Harry. But—
Would I be able to stop my own sister? Could I?
I told myself that she would hesitate, that she would not curse me if we met at wandpoint. But—
Bella giggled as I fell to the floor, basking in her victory. And then the giggles turned to a scream of horror as she saw the blood well out of my neck in thick, warm pulses, spilling out to the rhythm of my beating heart.
Cissy! No, no, no, this is not how we play! Cissy, get up!
"She already has, Narcissa," I whispered into the empty room as I trailed my fingers along my neck, up my jawline and towards my ear. She already has, and she did not seem all that bothered by it. She is not weak.
Unlike me.
I swear it was an accident, father! I never meant to hurt her, I thought she would block in time!
Was it weakness if I did not want to hurt Bella? Was it foolish to smother the thoughts of what I knew she would have done. Had she really tortured people? Killed people?
Yes, you dumb bint, and she would kill you, if it came to that.
Would she?
At any rate, it was not something I wanted to contemplate at any length. Ever. And the crux of the matter was, I was sure she was not the only one. Cara had mentioned her father had been currying favour with houses Harry said were firmly behind Riddle's operations. Like House Avery. Or House Malfoy.
A small part of me regretted ever getting myself involved. Because being involved meant making choices I was not ready to make. Choices I did not want to make, since I doubted I would ever be ready.
Fuck and bother it all. Morgana's saggy tits, when did my life become such a mess? I stood and wrenched the water taps close with more force than was necessary and wrapped a towel around myself.
Tired, bloodshot eyes looked back at me from where I had wiped some of the fogged up mirror clean. I glared daggers back at my reflection, hating myself for being so weak.
Cara threw her curtains open some time later as I sat cross-legged on my bed, drying my hair. Seeing her face helped dull the edge, a little.
"Morning," I said.
"You look like shit."
"Wow, thank you sunshine. What have I done to deserve this wonderful treatment?"
Cara shrugged as she squinted at me, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Did you sleep okay?"
No. "Yeah, just stayed up late last night." I tilted my head towards my nightstand. "Reading."
She snorted. "Only you could stay up late to read charms."
I shrugged as I threw my wand onto the bed and went to scavenge for clothes. "Any plans for today?"
"What day is it?"
"Sunday, Cara," I said with amusement. Never change, girl. "I should really buy you a calendar."
"You could, but then I'd have no need for you and you'd be forced to spend all your time with Harry," she said with a sigh as she stretched. Her back gave a satisfying pop.
"Oh no, my secret plan, uncovered at last."
"Awful, I know. Y'wanna get breakfast?"
I nodded. It was not like I had anything else to do today. I had not seen Harry since he dropped me off in the Room in the early morning hours on Saturday, and I threw myself into schoolwork to stop thinking about Malfoy Manor. As a result, I was all caught up with my essays, and had even made progress on my project. Maybe I would finally have some time to paint again. Maybe it would help me forget. Or even just stop me thinking the same thoughts on repeat.
···
I sighed as the conversation around the table lulled, and the silence started stretching again. Unbidden, almost as if attracted by some strange force, my thoughts turned to Harry. I had been worrying myself sick since we had come back early on Saturday morning, and the last forty-or-so hours had not been kind to me. I absentmindedly loaded some vegetables onto my plate as I listened to Cara start a debate about hinkypunks with Marlene.
It was not that the conversation was intellectually dull, or that I was not hungry, but neither of them were things I wanted to do. I wanted to go see Harry. To make sure that he was alright. My incessant worrying had probably been entirely unreasonable since he seemed alright when we came back to the castle—well, as alright as he had been the whole day. So not good.
And more than all that, I wanted to be able to talk to someone about everything that had happened.
I saw Alice break out into a run as she entered the Great Hall and saw us, beelining straight towards our group with Emmy in tow.
"Have you guys seen this?" asked Alice as she threw a paper onto the table next to me.
Malfoy Prosecuted on Corruption Charges
"So soon?" I blurted before my brain fully caught up with itself.
"You knew about this?" Alice asked incredulously as Cara snatched the paper from the table.
Bugger. I scrambled for something better to say than 'Of course I knew about it, I am the reason why he got investigated in the first place.' I chewed another mouthful of broccoli as I tried to even my breathing and keep my hands steady.
"Oh, no, not really," I lied. "Grandfather mentioned something about an investigation concerning Malfoy in his last letter, is all," I added when she looked like she was about to object.
"Morgana's powdered titties, they can do this? They basically beggared him!" Cara said as her eyes skimmed the text again. Then she looked up at me and grinned. "Let's hope Lucy boy won't bother you much after this."
Oh, of course! After everything that had happened at the manor, I had almost forgotten that Lucius Malfoy was the reason why we did this whole thing in the first place. I raised an eyebrow at Cara as I placed my cutlery down softly and extended my hand. "What does it say, exactly?" I felt Rosalie lean in to read over my shoulder as I pushed my plate to the side and straightened the Sunday Prophet.
Malfoy Prosecuted on Corruption Charges
In an unexpected and unprecedented move, the Wizengamot has levelled financial and criminal charges against Lord Abraxas Malfoy. The Malfoy patriarch was found guilty on the charges of illicit remuneration and thwarting of criminal investigations. Gringotts Bank has been instructed to freeze the assets of the Malfoy family as forfeiture, and allow only a living stipend to be paid each month under the mandates of the Banking Treaty of 1897.
The move came as a surprise during the 43rd meeting of 1975 that was convened this morning on the request of Bartemius Crouch Sr, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Despite the overwhelming body of evidence, it was only the surprise vote of Lord Black—whom many consider to be part of the conservative bloc—and his allies that tipped the votes into two-thirds majority.
"I am very happy with today's results," speaks Mr Crouch. "We always knew it was going to be a turbulent session. There was no telling how many friendly donations had really been made." Indeed, Lord Malfoy's influence was seen in the large number of abstained votes from the conservative faction in the chamber today. As one of the most influential wizards not seated on the Wizengamot, it remains to be seen how the political balance will be upset by the findings revealed today.
The meeting came as a result of a secret investigation, which was launched after documents from an undisclosed source alerted the D.M.L.E. to large bribes to no less than twelve individuals within the Ministry. From what we know, these transactions occurred to halt the ongoing investigations into the rising number of disappearances (for more details, see page 3). The bribe recipients included the Undersecretary of the Minister and his Chief of Staff. The Minister was not available for comment.
"Bad business, bribing to cover up [the] disappearances. We always suspected there was a connection, but we never had any proof until today," says Senior Auror Moody, the head of the investigation unit behind the case. "It's a sad day when we cannae do our justice [because of] some upstart lordling."
"It is nothing short of deserved. Several members of the Wizengamot called for charges of treason to be raised," said Lord Bones when asked about the severity of the judgements passed this day. (editor's note: the sentence for treason is life in Azkaban) "In my opinion, these measures strike at the heart of the matter; with no gold to spare and no vote to cast, Lord Malfoy's influence should be sufficiently curtailed."
Further investigations are required to determine the full reasons behind the disappearances and the motives of Lord Malfoy and any possible accomplices in what turned out to be a complex scheme with questionable motivations.
"Damn," Rosalie whispered. "They really did him in, didn't they?"
I nodded. This was better than we had hoped for.
···
"Unfair!" I shouted as I ducked my head out of the way of the snowball, hiding behind one of the pillars as if they were crenellations.
"Tough luck, Blondie!" I heard Cara shout from across the courtyard. I grinned viciously as I started disillusioning and levitating a mound of snow into her general direction. "Hey!"
"I think that's a win for us, Cissy," Alice grinned from beside me, hair sopped with half-melted snow. I peeked from behind the wall and laughed as Cara and Marlene struggled to get out of the pile of snow, only to be attacked by one of Alice's snowmen. Good charmwork, that.
"You want to go help them out?"
"Nah."
I shrugged as I started on casting warming and drying charms. With how numb my hands were from the cold, it took a good few tries to sketch the delicate motions into the air. The girls had stumbled over the courtyard to our hiding spot by the time I stopped shivering, even though I could have sworn I still had snow on my back.
"Do not even try," I warned them as Cara shifted something behind her back. She stuck out her tongue before throwing a snowball at me anyway.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she said as she pushed away the hair that clung to her face. She looked around, then kissed Marlene on the cheek when nobody was looking before saying her goodbyes and dragging me off towards the common room.
"What was that for?" I asked as we made our way down towards the dungeons.
"You were moping about all day."
"And that justifies the unprovoked attack?"
"Yup."
"Thanks," I said after a pause.
"Don't mention it," she said as she skipped down the last four steps in a single jump. "Unless you wanna talk, in which case, mention it please."
I was about to say no before I stopped myself. Maybe it was time to try something new. After all, the last hour had helped ease the constant spiral of worries more than anything I had tried over the last two days. "You know what, maybe I will. Do you want to go find a spot by the fire?" I saw Cara's eyes light up like a niffler who struck gold. She always was a sucker for secrets.
By the time I returned from the dormitory in a fresh change of clothes, Cara had managed to claim two armchairs close to a hearth, courtesy of a half-empty common room. I watched a group of younger boys play exploding snap from where I sat, trying to get my thoughts into order. Every once in a while, one of the cards would burst in a crack of smoke.
"Do you know anything about the Knights of Walpurgis?" I asked as a game ended and the most singed boy started shuffling the cards.
"Hm? Not much, really," Cara admitted as she looked away from the boys and tilted her head. "I think father mentioned them once or twice."
"They are… Harry believes they are behind the disappearances that the Prophet mentioned in the Malfoy case."
Cara frowned. "He thinks Malfoy was a part of it?"
"Quite certain, actually. And from what he has told me, so is most of the conservative bloc. Do you remember Lord Gaunt? Older man, handsome, went to a few balls over the years." She nodded. I leaned in closer to her and dropped my voice low. "He told me that he is the man behind it all. That he is using the purebloods as easy resources to gain power. From what I can tell, they are planning on doing more than just a few disappearances. He says that all the raids that have been happening are just a beginning."
I saw her eyes widen as she connected the dots. We had both seen Gaunt sweep into the social circles a few years ago, talking politics and business with other pompous lords, despite not holding a seat on the Wizengamot, as if he was born to it. We had both thought nothing of it at the time.
"Father said that they were busier than usual at the hospital," she muttered after a while. "But I never thought—" Then her eyes snapped to me. "You think Lucy boy is one of them as well?
I gave her a wan smile. "No, Cara, I know he is one of them. But I am not that worried about Malfoy. It is more…" I closed my eyes, debating how much I wanted to tell her. How much I could tell her, before she would spend all her time worrying about me like I worried about Harry. "Bella is one of them," I added softly.
Cara's mouth made a little 'o' as she looked at me. I let my eyes drop down as I studied the way the fabric of my skirt folded in on itself. "I guess I am just worried, you know? What do I do? It is not like I care about the muggles, but they already started kidnapping people—important people within the Ministry. What if they threaten grandfather, now that he voted Malfoy out? What if they attack openly? What if I have to face my own sister? What if—" I swallowed down the emotions before they spilled out and painted everything sickly grey.
There it was. The words hung heavy between us, waiting to be torn apart by Cara. I waited for the 'they wouldn't's and 'no way's I was sure would follow. It was why I had not said anything before, fearing… I did not even know what I was scared about. But the silence stretched and stretched and filled the room, interrupted only by the gentle crackle of the fire and the occasional snap from across the common room.
"Gaunt was in our house this summer," she said. "He's the guy my father made that alliance with, remember when I told you? I couldn't remember his name on the spot then. Who is this guy anyway?"
"He is a Gaunt, I guess, after his mother. Apparently she became infatuated with some rich muggle and potioned her way into a child—I think? I am not sure, really, all I know is that he is not a pureblood."
Cara made a face. Then, she burst into a fit of giggles. "A bastard mudblood," she wheezed. "And they've been tripping over themselves to get a hold of him." The sight of her made me start as well. So we sat there, giggling—quite literally—like a pair of schoolgirls at the parental descent of one of the most powerful Dark Lords in recent history.
···
I finally convinced myself to go see Harry. After the talk with Cara last night, I had resolved to stop being so stupid and go seek him out first thing I could after I woke up. Then I managed to go through a change of heart about three times before I even made it to breakfast. Why was he not reaching out? Did he regret what we did? The sex? The raid? Did he get hurt? He probably did not want to see me.
My feet still carried me to the door of his office. At worst, he will not answer, I told myself.
I hoped.
So I knocked and waited in the empty classroom, watching the little specks of dust float about, rocking back and forth from tiptoe to heel; back and forth, back and forth, back and forth like a little lost pendulum. Was I keeping time or keeping in motion to chase away the stillness? I scratched my nose in irritation as I made myself stop. Should I knock again?
"Come in," I heard through the door before I could decide. My hands did not shake. I did not let them to—I was a Black and proud of it, Morgana damn it all.
He was sitting behind his desk, writing some paperwork, his snake nuzzled around his arm on the desk. He smiled when he looked up and saw me. "Hello, Cissa."
Damn it, Harry, what was I supposed to say? Why did he act so nonchalant about the whole thing?
"Hi." A thousand questions wanted to be asked, but none of them sounded right. I picked one anyway, because I hated standing there like a bowtruckle in water. "Have you seen the news?"
"The Malfoy article?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, pretty neat, huh?"
"Indeed." I paused, hoping he would say more, not wanting to be the one leading the conversation; too afraid I would lead it astray. Why have I not heard a single word from you in three days, dumbass, I wanted to shout. "So, what have you been up to while our illustrious government was busy politically executing Lord Malfoy?" I said instead, crossing my arms. "I was worried about you."
He groaned as he threw the quill down on the desk and stood up, dislodging Medusa in the process. "I'm sorry, Cissa. I didn't—" He walked around the desk before stopping, suddenly seeming oh-so-very unsure of himself. He looked as young as he was, then. It made me realise with a start that despite how assured and put-together he came off most times, he was probably stumbling through everything just as blindly as I was. It helped, somehow, even if it did not make me any less frustrated.
"You didn't?"
"I didn't think—What I mean is, I am not very good with this whole people stuff."
Of course. His stupid fucking muggle family. Of course he did not think to reach out to anyone. He had not told me much, but I have heard Emmy's father play a similar tune half a dozen times over the years. Maybe it was not religion that pushed Harry's relatives, but the motives were extraneous to the outcome. I hated them for what they did to Emmy, Harry, and the countless other horror stories I have heard about. I squeezed my eyes in frustration.
"I, um, I know you're mad at me and—" he started, hesitantly, his eyes sliding to the side.
"I am not," I cut right through what he was about to say, slicing through the thread of conversation before he hanged himself on it. The muscles in his back felt stiff as stone as I wrapped my arms around him. I leaned my head against his shoulder, before picking up all my courage and pressing a small kiss on his jaw. "I am mad at the muggles that made you be this way, Harry."
"Oh," he said quietly as the tension bled out of him.
"But try to remember next time that I care and worry about you, alright?"
He kissed the top of my head in reply.
"You still did not answer my question," I said as I stepped away from him and hopped up to sit on the desk—I did not like the chair, it made me feel like a student and that was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about right now. "I have not seen you in the Great Hall all weekend."
He shrugged. "It's probably a lot more boring than you expect. I spent a rather long time with Charlus in preparation for the Wizengamot meeting, and then got trapped by Dorea to 'stay for lunch', which ended up taking all day. And yesterday, I think I spent fifteen hours catching up on grading essays. I never knew being a professor was this much work."
I wanted to ask if he had told Aunt Dorea about me. Or maybe grandfather had told her already. "Tough luck. You should assign less homework then," I said instead as I patted him on the head.
"Right, well, can't have you lot slacking off."
"Then start a duelling club or something, it would probably be more useful than writing about spells and creatures anyway."
He gave a non-committal shrug as his lip tugged up. "You just say that because you want to win."
"Duh, of course."
"I'll think about it. Do you want to get in some practice before your class?"
"Sure," I said as I pulled out my wand and headed out to the classroom, flicking a silent colloportus at the classroom door. The last thing we wanted was someone wandering in with spells flying haywire.
Half an hour later, I groaned as I collapsed into one of the chairs, silently thankful for whoever had the foresight to put cushioning charms on them. I swept the sweat-slicked hair out of my face as I looked at him. "It's not fair, you are not half as winded as I am!"
"You should dodge less and deflect more, then."
"Dodging is safer, though, you said so yourself."
"True, in most cases. But as they say, teaching is all about telling the best lies."
"Nobody says that," I said with a laugh. "You made that up on the spot."
He sniffed in mock affront as he tucked his wand away. "I will have you know I am quoting the great Albus Dumbledore, and do not appreciate being mocked." He managed to hold his composure for a good three seconds before we both burst into laughter.
"Very well, Harry, I will leave you to it. I should probably shower before class, or Cara will get all the wrong ideas." He hummed half-heartedly in reply.
I was just about to unlock the door when he called out. "Cissa?"
"Yes?" I said as I turned back around.
"Do you have plans on Saturday?"
"No, I do not think so."
"Would you like to go somewhere? Like a date?"
Yes, yes, yes! "Like a date, Harry?" I said with a smile, enjoying seeing him so nervous. "I would like a date, yes."
His smile was all teeth and dimpled cheeks.