By Saturday afternoon, I'd tidied up and procrastinated for as long as possible before I had no excuse but to open Lucius Malfoy's case file.
The file was thick, showing Harry's team had put in some work, but it was not as thick as I'd expected. I opened it up, sorted its contents, and organized it into coherent piles on my dining room table. Last, I found an envelope labeled "crime scene photos."
Bingo.
I moved my neat stacks of paper to the side, clearing a space for the photos, and then I laid them out one by one.
It had been several years since I'd seen Lucius Malfoy alive, but he was nearly unrecognizable in death. His long white blonde hair was one of the few features confirming his identity; everything else, from his face to his toes, had seemingly been petrified. His skin had been pale before but was now grayed and sunken into each of his bones. The way his body had somehow decayed and dried up reminded me of mummified remains.
What kind of magic could do this to someone?
As much as I wanted to look away, I continued arranging the pictures to get a complete understanding of the area.
He was positioned on a landing, facing away from two doorways, with his arm outstretched and mouth gaping, like he'd run away screaming from his attacker. Another photo showed scratch marks on the floor not far from his fingertips.
He certainly did try to get away, likely ruling out any type of cursed object doing this to him; he was trying to get away from some one, not some thing . And if that's the case, my team would likely be of little help here.
I looked at the dark doorways looming behind him… What were you running from? I found a sketch of the layout around the body. The notes indicated that his body was found on the 1st floor; one doorway was a narrow hallway, and the one to the left was a WC.
I moved on to the medical report, which mirrored my astonishment at the advanced state of decomposition. No markings or injuries on his corpse would indicate physical contact or pinpoint the impact zone of a curse. His death was classified as a homicide, and the cause of death was listed as "unknown curse."
Finding no helpful information, I continued reading the rest of the files. I analyzed all the minute details of Lucius' rather solitary life, his financials, his last known engagements, etc., finding nothing of interest. Surprisingly, nothing suspicious was found at the scene, and no physical evidence was produced as a result of Harry's investigation. However, this was often the case with crimes in the wizarding world; all you need is a wand to commit a murder, nothing more, nothing less.
Narcissa Malfoy was accounted for at a spa in France and had been residing in France for quite some time. There was a house elf named Trixie, listed as mute, who is and was in service at the time of the murder. She found Lucius' body and alerted authorities. Harry's notes indicate that efforts to question her have been fruitless due to a communication barrier, but she is not considered a suspect now.
By 5 o'clock, I'd read and reread everything in the file except for Draco Malfoy's stack.
I decided I needed a glass of wine and a snack before I dove into that uninviting circumspection of my childhood bully.
I nervously touched my tongue to my two front teeth, checking that they weren't the same buck teeth I'd had as a kid or, worse, the giant beaver teeth Malfoy had once given me. I sighed silently in relief before pouring a glass of my favorite wine.
Why him? Why did this case have to involve him?
I downed half my glass before returning to the dining room, then grabbed the pile of papers I'd been avoiding and moved to the small sitting room of my flat.
Draco Malfoy, President and CEO of the France located multi conglomerate Malfoy Industries. I noticed a home address listed for him and quickly searched for it on my phone.
Wow , he would live in a penthouse along the Seine, bastard.
I continue, learning all about his whereabouts for the past several months, his visits to his Mother, his business meetings, social gatherings, the revolving door of French models he'd been seen with, and his apparent lack of involvement in his father's investigation… I found nothing to convince me of his guilt, but also nothing that made me want to work with him.
All in all, the case file provided very little helpful information, and I fully understood Harry's predicament. He was screwed.
After finishing the file and my wine, I returned to the kitchen to pour another. It'd been a while since I'd indulged in wine; I'd had the bottle in the cupboard for ages, but if there was ever an occasion, it was now.
I had a decision to make. Sure, the mysterious death of Lucius Malfoy sparked my curiosity. And yes, I'd like to help Harry; he undoubtedly needed help. But was it worth it? The additional workload, the bleak possibility of this being worthwhile for my team, and the impossible task of working with Draco sodding Malfoy!
I sipped, then I sipped again.
If Malfoy Manor once housed Tom Riddle's diary, not to mention Voldemort and his horde during the war, the odds of cursed objects or even dangerous texts existing there was high. Especially since a manor that old had to have been in the family for ages, a Sacred 28 family, no less.
The wheels in my head started turning as I envisioned the ominous exterior of Malfoy Manor. I still had the occasional nightmare and the scars from the last time I'd been forced to go there, but I'd mostly been able to put it in a little box in the back of my mind, not to be reopened.
I didn't want to return, but I really did believe that if this were successful, it would help spearhead my expansion proposal and further solidify the value of the CBD at the ministry… It would legitimize our skill set, leveling us with the Aurors! Okay, now I am getting ahead of myself.
I finished my glass and set it in the sink. The wine had done its part in physically relaxing me, but my mind plowed forward.
If I was going to do this and do it right, I needed to develop a plan quickly. I'd need to divide the manor into sections and assign them to my team. We'd have to go room by room tediously, wall by wall, scanning every surface for traces of dark magic or hidden items. Given the manor's size, it would take several days.
I didn't quite know the whole expanse of the Manor, having only seen a couple of rooms. I needed blueprints; no, I needed to see the place to determine how and how long we'd need to complete the scanning process. Then there'd be the logging, review, and comparison of data AND the inevitable removal and destruction of cursed items.
How long had Harry said he had before his report was due? Less than a month? The urge to get started burned in my veins as the stress of a time crunch loomed.
I left the kitchen and headed toward the laundry room, searching for the blazer I'd worn yesterday. I was buzzed and on a mission, thanks to the wine and forgetting to grab a snack.
I quickly found the garment and dug my hand into one pocket, then the other, until my fingertips felt cold metal.
With little forethought aside from sheer determination, I used my cell to dial Malfoy's number.
The phone rang once, then twice, and by the time it rang a third time, I was second-guessing my decision to call.
I considered hanging up and trying again in the morning when he spoke.
"Did you get it sorted , Granger?"
His voice was deep and indifferent, and his greeting took me off guard.
How did he know it was me?!
"Evening, Malfoy." I offered.
Nothing but impatient silence followed, so I continued.
"After careful consideration, I've generously agreed to lend the services of the CBD to the investigation into your father's death."
Silence again. I swallowed.
"As such and as per the letter you received from the DMLE, your cooperation is required. Therefore, I'd like to schedule a tour of the property and an introduction to the resident house elf, Trixie, as soon as possible. Preferably tomorrow around 11. Or one at the latest."
Click.
"Bastard," I spat once I'd realized he'd hung up.
It looks like I'll be touring myself around Malfoy Manor tomorrow.