Still December 1st

Lucius's jaw clenched as thoughts raced through his mind. Serpent and lion unite. The House of Malfoy will fall. Midnight on the new year. The serpent and lion unite. Did that mean that Draco and the Granger girl must fall in…

Well, "unite" could mean many different things, depending on the context. Lucius relaxed his shoulders a little as he pondered other plausible scenarios. Perhaps they needed to unite on the bill? Yes, that made more sense. They were, after all, now tasked with working more closely on coming to a compromise (much to Lucius's chagrin). Yes, that made much more sense than some other possibilities.

He thought back to the old woman- the professor. Perhaps she could shed some more light. Yes, now that Lucius recalled, she was the great-grandaughter of the famed seer, Cassandra. Why did he know this? He racked his brain. He knew this because… because she was the seer who prophesied the Dark Lord's return! It was she who foresaw the prophecy, which had been revealed after the war, about Harry Potter, the Dark Lord, and how neither could live while the other survived. A pang in his chest reminded Lucius that it was his late friend, Severus, who revealed this to their former master.

A shake of his head reminded Lucius that his next course of action was to find the old woman so she could give him more context into her vague words. Although he looked around the now- thinning crowd, he did not see the bright, purple scarf, nor hear the clanking of mismatched beads. Her unusually bright attire would hardly be missed among the plain robes of the Wizengamot.

Nevertheless, Lucius schemed as he strode over to Draco.

"Ah, there you are, father. You left in a hurry," Draco noted, raising a knowing eyebrow at his sire. Lucius frowned.

"You know perfectly well why I left. That blasted girl," Lucius whispered harshly. Draco smirked in return.

"Don't worry, father. I'll have her seeing reason in no time. She may think her logic is iron-clad, but after a few weeks with me, she'll come to realize that not everything she's spewing from that bill is all candy floss and unicorn's hair." Lucius was cautiously optimistic. His son was confident- if not a little cocky (an inherited Malfoy family trait). Still, his mind went back to the prophecy.

They caught the lift back up to the atrium. As they walked through the throng of other ministry workers, some of whom still whispered to one another as father and son walked by, Lucius's ears pricked up. He had caught the soft sounds of a group of carol singers- diverse in magical race. Elves, goblins, wizards, and even a fairy flitting around the group (singing an extraordinary soprano note) all sang We Wish You a Merry Christmas. They were stood by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, with the beautiful balsam fir as their backdrop. Their puffskein fur-lined hats appeared to keep them warm under the falling enchanted show. Lucius wondered if Narcissa would like one for Christmas. She was, of course, an icon of fashion.

Lucius also noticed one of the goblins appeared to be holding a tin. Collecting for a charity, no doubt. He sighed and took out his money bag. Fortunately, the war had not depleted the Malfoy fortune. Lucius pulled out a galleon and walked up to the goblin. When he noticed Lucius approach, his eyes grew wide with nervousness for a moment. Then he spotted the galleon and his expression became quizzical. Nevertheless, the confused goblin held out the tin to Malfoy senior with a slight tremble in his hand. Lucius dropped the coin, murmured Merry Christmas, and continued on his way with Draco. While giving away his money did not bring him joy or even a sense of "holiday spirit," he reasoned that he had a lot of it and could part with some of his wealth if it meant the public would be more inclined to accept him.

Lucius was woken out of his reverie by Draco.

"Well father, I must go. I have to come up with a game plan and start strategizing these work sessions," he rolled his eyes, "as if any amount of planning will prepare me for a civilized discourse with Granger." He was about to enter a lift when Lucius remembered his mission.

"Ah, Draco," he called, " by chance, do you remember the name of the Divination professor from school?" Draco snorted a quick laugh.

"Father, you know I never took Divination. Though I believe she was called Trelawney. Why do you ask?" Lucius was hit by a wave of apprehension, but quickly recovered. No need for Draco to know about his encounter with the old woman. Not yet, at least.

"I believe I saw her in the courtroom today. I recognized her from before." He and Draco always used the phrase 'from before' to refer to any time before the war.

"That's odd," Draco said puzzled, "I wonder what she was doing there? I didn't think she was particularly interested in politics." Draco shrugged but waved as he walked into a lift and was transported out of sight.

Lucius flooed home to the manor house, directly into his study. He removed his cloak and gloves, tossing them haphazardly onto a chair near his desk. He poured himself a glass of amber firewhiskey and all but collapsed into his green upholstered armchair by the fire.

The fire was roaring and warm, as was the firewhisky sliding smoothly down his throat. Yes, Draco had a point. In all his shock and confusion over the prophecy, Lucius had barely spared a thought as to what this Trelawney woman was doing in the courtroom that day. Was she merely interested in hearing about the proposed law? Sessions were, after all, open to the public (in the essence of transparency under the new Minister). Or was she drawn there by another force? Lucius had to admit that he did not give a blilywig's sting about the "art" of divination. But the way her words were delivered, the way her voice sounded almost unhuman…

He gulped his drink again and closed his eyes. His long, silver hair fell around his shoulders as he tilted his head back. Whatever this "union" was that Trelawney had spoken of, Lucius decidedly could not let it come to pass. Whether it referred to the legislation or otherwise (Lucius blanched at the thought), he would not let his son get wrapped up with that mud-muggleborn. Dammit. He really was trying to make a concerted effort to forgo some of the old ways that served no purpose in a Dark Lord-free world, where equity and equality amongst his wizard fellows held more weight than the pureness of blood.

So what if the prophecy also spoke of the ruin of his house? The noble house of Malfoy had stood firm for centuries. 'Purity will always conquer.' He snorted and sipped again. Well, purity may not conquer now, but their family always came through on the other side in the end. Even when he, the family patriarch, was sentenced to Azkaban, and after the Dark Lord fell, they came back. They always come back. True, much of those triumphs were thanks to the quick thinking of his Narcissa, but the fact remained: the Malfoy family was still here, still free, and had avoided Azkaban entirely after the war. Not many of their friends could say that. The Malfoys, as a breed, were as ambitious as they were cunning, and knew how to survive. This was just another test of survival. He just needed to know a little more information before he decided where they would land next.

Lucius finished his drink in one final gulp and rose, walking to his desk. He found a piece of spare parchment and quill, which he dipped in emerald green ink. Not even sitting down, he bent over and quickly scribbled his note. When finished, Lucius went over to his broad window and opened it. He was met with a snapping cold wind and cloudless night, but was not deterred.

"Alaric," he called into the night. Not a moment later, a beautiful grey and brown-spotted eagle owl soared up to the sil and perched in front of his master.

"Alaric, take this to the headmistress of Hogwarts. Do not appear eager for a response, but stay on the grounds until she gives you one," he stroked the owl's neck,"perhaps you can mingle with the local fowl?" Lucius mused, with a knowing smirk to his feathered companion. Alaric clipped his proper beak and flapped his wings warningly. The owl was assuredly a Malfoy in everything but species.

Tying his scroll to the bird's leg, Alaric launched into the starry sky and was soon over the hills and out of sight.

Lucius closed the window and went to stand by the fire to regain warmth. He needed all the pieces to figure out where to go next. How could he interfere with the serpent and lion's union while also saving his family from ruin?

He knew his first step was finding the whereabouts of Professor Trelawney.