December 1st
The Ministry of Magic was ready for the holidays to begin! The beautiful, golden atrium was decorated from stem to stern in baubles, garland, and all sorts of frosted winter greenery. Holly leaves, with their shining red berries, hung above the golden gates of the lifts. The sky was enchanted to snow. Ministry workers tightened scarves and affixed balaclavas as glittering snowflakes swirled and landed around them, though they were enchanted to disappear quickly so as not to leave great puddles on the marbled floors.
The paintings of important witches and wizards were decorating within their frames, too. Albus Dumbledore, whose portrait was installed after Kingsley Shacklebolt's tenure as Minister of Magic commenced, appeared to be sipping hot apple cider next to his stocking-clad, crackling fireplace. He appeared to be ready for a snooze, as he settled into his armchair. Professor Dumbledore appeared to be wearing knitted socks with Gryffindor lions on them, all wearing wreaths for necklaces.
And next to the Fountain of Magical Brethren (who, themselves, were all wearing festive adornments, such as Christmas jumpers and Santa hats), stood the pièce de résistance: a 40 foot balsam fir. It was glowing with shimmering baubles, lovely red ribbons, and candles that flickered softly but inflicted no harm upon the tree. Hovering just above the top of the tree was a beautifully enchanted star. Tiny bursts of light swirled around it as it hung suspended in the air.
Things were, unfortunately, much less festive down in the 10th level of the Ministry, where the Wizengamot was just adjourning their work session for the day.
Lucius Malfoy's cheeks were still flushed with anger as he left the courtroom. This latest work session had been the most heated one yet. It was plain to Lucius that she would stop at nothing to pass that damned bill.
As representatives of the governing body, both she and Lucius (as well as several other members of the Wizengamot) were appointed to a committee whose purpose was to flesh out the potential ramifications of the newly proposed legislature. The parliament felt that they had selected members who could offer differing viewpoints to ensure constituents across the wizarding world were being kept in mind. It was, however, growing increasingly difficult for the senior Malfoy to keep discussions civilized.
She had appeared so confident, so pretentious as she delivered the latest suggestions from her like-minded fellows on the committee. What irked Lucius most, though, even more than her short-sightedness with the bill's future reach, was that she had not even spared him a glance. As if he was not worthy of her gaze. As if the glorified war hero was too… pure to acknowledge an atoned sinner.
He scoffed as he briskly walked down the darkened corridor. Of course Draco, who was also a member of the Wizengamot and their committee, had tried his best to more eloquently defend their side's concerns and objections. At all the previous sessions, Lucius had captained their ship well, with the grace and dignity of a Lord. She had appeared so meek in those first few meetings. Lucius recalled thinking that it was hardly becoming of a Gryffindor. However, once the bill was proposed and started gaining momentum (not just within the Wizengamot, but all over the larger wizarding community), that lion's confidence found its way though.
Their committee was soon formed under instruction from the Chief Warlock, Arthur Weasley. Lucius groaned just thinking about Weasley's promotion. The blood traitor's connection to their current Minister surely played a role in his promotion to such a prestigious position as Chief Warlock. Lucius was also aware that he did not outright endorse the young Gryffindor's proposal. Could it be that he was, in fact, trying to stay impartial? Lucius remembered the look on Draco's face when he entered the courtroom as a member for the first time and saw Weasley sitting on his pedestal.
Lucius also remembered Draco's chagrin as debate quickly started around the bill and she became more emboldened in their arguments. They had challenged her, and she held her ground firmly. Lucius wondered if she thought herself better than them? That, although their family had clawed their way back into the public eye in charity balls, good works, and even earning positions in government, that she still saw them as undesirables? Lucius had almost lost all the social progress they had made in this last session. If not for Draco, he surely would have lost control and let that little mud- muggleborn know how he truly felt about her bill.
He stopped where he was, his cape swooshing to a halt. He leaned slightly against his cane and grimaced. Had she really no idea the implications of her bill? She seemed to come from the perspective that, since the Dark Lord was vanquished, no other ills plagued their communities. Further, she did not appear to acknowledge any other perspectives.
For the first time, Draco had taken over the reins. He saw Lucius reaching his limit and knew they would lose all credibility if his speech had indicated in any way that he was holding onto the old pureblood ideals. She must have been surprised at first, but she hardly missed a beat. Lucius reflected on how his son had gone toe to toe with the Gryffindor golden girl.
For a moment, his grimace relaxed as a glow of pride swelled in him. Drace was really coming into his own. While Lucius still tried, in his own way, to shield Draco from further harm in this post-Voldemort life, he seemed to handle new challenges in his stride. This committee was his first official venture with the department and, despite quiet criticisms and hushed discussions of non-trust in the Malfoy family in the lifts, Minister Shacklebolt and Chief Warlock Weasley had appointed Draco on his own merit.
Draco had expressed some apprehension with this committee, as his former schoolmate was placed on a proverbial pedestal by many in the ministry. He voiced concerns that the Wizengamot would not objectively hear their argument, but instead be blinded by her golden aura. Lucius had admitted that he was apprehensive too. However, the Wizengamot, by all accounts, had appeared thus far to listen without judgement. Draco's bold actions in today's session had certainly made an impression on how the court felt both parties should proceed.
Lucius cursed himself. It was because of him, because he could not control his temper, that Draco would be subjected to spending more time with that insufferable know it all. The court saw their tête-à-tête and felt that, while progress was being made within the courtroom, it would behoove both parties within the committee to take more time to understand each other. They reasoned that the history of these sessions ended very much the same way: with little progress. They had effectively ordered a smaller subcommittee (effectively just her and Draco) to work extra, outside the full Wizengamot sessions, in hopes it would bring more unity in the end. After all, Arthur Weasley had said, what is the point if everyone does not feel heard? Lucius could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye when he made that statement. He did not like it.
Lucius sighed and straightened up. He had bolted from the courtroom the moment the session was declared over. He watched as some of the members of the Wizengamot started filling out. He saw Draco and had made to meet him when a hand grabbed his arm in a vice grip. He turned to demand that he be unhanded at once, only to be stunned into silence at the sight of an older woman.
She was familiar to Lucius, with her wiry gray and auburn hair sticking out from behind a scarf, which was wrapped haphazardly around her head. She wore glasses, which were thick as butterbeer bottles. A purple shawl was draped over her shoulders and beads of all colors, shapes, and sizes dangled from her neck. Lucius had a fleeting thought of what his wife would think of how the woman was dressed.
"I beg your pardon," Lucius tried to recover. He was still quick to anger in his heightened state of emotional arousal. The woman, however, did not appear to be looking at him. Her eyes gazed, glass-like, past him. Her grip grew stronger but before Lucius could free himself, she spoke. A raspy voice emitted from her:
"Your once-great house wavers on a precipice. Serpent and lion must unite before the last chime of midnight to the new year. Together, they will bring change, and that change can bring peace. That peace brings balance. Be warned, if obstacles are forcefully placed in their way, the house of Malfoy will fall!"
With her last word, she trailed off and her grip slackened. She blinked behind those thick glasses and smacked her lips together, as though parched. She looked up at Lucius, who must have looked horrified, because her face began to mirror his. When she spoke again, her voice was light and dreamy, but full of concern.
"My dear, are you well? Have you spotted an unsavory figure in your tea leaves?" she asked, gripping his arm again but with less force. Lucius had no idea what she was talking about, but he tried to regain his composure. He murmured reassuringly that all was well. Her face relaxed into a dreamy smile as well.
"Very good, dear. Well I say, Mr. Malfoy, what an informative session, don't you think?" she continued, "I am, of course, very proud to have taught those vocal young people during their time at Hogwarts. They ought to think of looking to the stars for further guidance, don't you agree? Ah, there you are Doris!" Without waiting for him to respond, the old woman drifted away and melted into the crowd.
While his face returned to stone, Lucius felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. What on earth was that? He racked his brain to place her face with a name. Where had he seen her before? A brief memory of crystal balls dropping from a tower during the war flashed across his mind, followed by a shiver down his spine. He rarely liked to reminisce about the war. However, while he still could not recall a name, he placed the old woman at Hogwarts. Was she a professor? Speculating based purely on her appearance (and masterful maneuvering of heavy glass spheres), Lucius surmised she had taught divination. Draco had never bothered taking such a wasteful subject, so her name never crossed in conversation.
What had she said? With a jolt, Lucius had remembered her last line: the house of Malfoy will fall! He tried to recall the rest. Something about balance. His house hung in the balance. What did that mean? Their lives? Their fortune? Their delicate acceptance back into the wizarding community?
And all this if the serpent and lion do not unite before the new year? He pondered that part- the serpent and the lion. Well, he himself was almost as synonymous with Slytherin house as great Salazar himself. But he could hardly picture himself unifying with any lions. His beloved Narcissa was also a serpent queen, and although they maintained their airs and graces in the community, there were hardly any "lions" who wanted to get to know the post-war Malfoy royalty on a personal level.
Just then, Lucius saw her exit the courtroom. He observed a frosty glance exchanged between her and Draco. Some words were exchanged, which Lucius could not hear. She then walked away, her heels clicking in echoes on the cold, stone floor.
Lucius's eyes grew wide. The grip on his cane tightened once again. No, surely not. Sure this could not be the union that the old woman spoke of. No, more like prophesied. The serpent and the lion. His son and… Hermione Granger?