Chapter 11 - Pasta and Muggles

The grand library of Malfoy Manor presented a different scene that afternoon. The long study table, usually dedicated to books and scrolls, was covered with an array of jewels of all colors and sizes. The fire in the hearth reflected off the scattered gemstones, creating a sparkling spectacle of golden and blue hues that illuminated the room. Pieces of parchment, containing notes about the jewels, were arranged in a kind of organized chaos.

Lucius and Fleur had spent the previous night attempting to catalogue all the jewels, hoping to complete the task once and for all. However, the complexity proved greater than they had anticipated. While the most imposing jewels were meticulously cataloged, the simpler pieces often lacked complete identification numbers or detailed magical functions in the records, making the cataloging process even more frustrating.

To complicate matters, the information from Rita Skeeter, that the jewel found at the Minister of Magic's committee was a small diamond identical to nine others, turned out to be useless. There was no such jewel in the vault that matched this description, heightening the mystery surrounding the disappearance of the pieces.

Lucius stood in front of the fireplace, gazing into the flames, while consulting his pocket watch. It was then that Lucius heard soft footsteps echoing down the corridor, and as he turned, he saw Fleur entering the library, accompanied by the butler.

She entered the room with a broad smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, and exclaimed, "Good afternoon, Lucius! I wasn't late today, did you notice?"

Lucius noticed the lapis lazuli bracelet he had given her, and a subtle smile appeared on his lips. Glancing at his pocket watch, he remarked with light irony in his voice, "Good afternoon. I see time has its own rhythm for you. Thirteen minutes may not seem much, but for some, precision is indeed of great importance."

Unfazed by the mordant comment, she kept the smile on her face, ignoring the provocation. With graceful movements, she placed the paper bag on the table, her fingers sliding delicately over its surface. Then, with an engaging voice, she asked, tilting her head slightly, "And you, Lucius, how was your day?"

Lucius was taken aback by the question, something so simple, yet something he hadn't heard in a long time. He hesitated for a moment, still processing the fact that someone had cared enough to ask about his day, before continuing with a slight smile: "I went to Gringotts" he began, his voice measured, "and checked the Malfoy vaults. All the jewels are precisely where they should be, with no sign of any movement. After lunch, I devoted myself to cataloging the jewels while awaiting your arrival."

"That's good" said Fleur. "Now we know the person who took the jewels doesn't have access to the Gringotts vaults. Besides, your assets aren't being entirely plundered by strangers, of course."

Fleur took out her wand and, with a delicate yet precise movement, traced an arc in the air while pronouncing the spell's words: "Odoratus Claustrum!" Immediately, a gentle magical breeze spread through the room, enveloping the food and creating an invisible barrier around it. The scent was sealed effectively, ensuring that nothing would interfere with the perfect aroma until it was time to serve.

Lucius paused, taking a deep breath, as he looked at the food now encased in a slight glow from the active spell, and continued with a voice laden with subtle melancholy: "There have been many changes since I... in the time that I was away."

He flashed a slight smile as he looked at the box. "This, for example. Pasta from Italy, hot, in a paper box to be eaten anywhere. A remarkable invention. I must say that yesterday when you brought it, I had my doubts, but it is indeed excellent."

Fleur, while putting on her glasses to start working, stopped for a moment and looked at Lucius with slight embarrassment. "Lucius, I need to tell you something. This pasta isn't exactly... wizard-made."

He frowned, curiosity evident in his eyes. "How so?"

She smiled timidly, trying to find the right words. "I bought it in central London. I was going to tell you yesterday, but then you distracted me with the bracelet, and I ended up forgetting."

Lucius stared at her seriously, his eyes locking onto hers with an unexpected intensity. "You gave me..." He paused, controlling his breath before continuing, his voice even firmer. "You gave me Muggle food to eat?"

Fleur shrugged, trying to appear casual but unable to completely hide the tension in her voice. "Well... It was made by a Muggle, but fetched by a witch. So, technically, it's half-and-half."

Lucius kept his eyes fixed on Fleur, without looking away, as a silent battle unfolded within him.

Fleur frowned, watching Lucius seriously. "Lucius, think carefully. Just a few minutes ago, you were praising this meal as a remarkable invention. What has changed now?"

The expression on Lucius's face was one of someone weighing every thought, trying to understand what was happening inside himself.

Then he took a deep breath, as if gathering the strength to continue. "Nothing has changed, Fleur. You are right" he began, his voice laden with an emotional weight that was hard to ignore. "It was just the old Lucius trying to rob me of a good dinner."

Fleur smiled and declared in her sincere voice, "You truly surprised me, Lucius. In a positive way, I mean." There was warmth in her words, an acknowledgment that she had noticed his effort.

Lucius kept his eyes on Fleur, and a genuine smile began to form on his lips. For a moment, he seemed relieved, almost happy. "Ah, so that was it?" he asked, with a hint of joy in his voice. "It was all just a test, and I passed. The food is wizard-made after all!"

Fleur laughed, a soft and authentic sound that filled the room with a renewed energy. "No, no, Lucius" she said, still smiling. "The food is indeed Muggle-made."

Lucius's smile faltered for a brief moment, but he soon joined in Fleur's laughter, feeling something long absent: lightness. The laughter was more than just a response to the moment; it was a milestone, a sign that, after ten years in prison, he was finally allowing himself to experience a bit of joy again. "Well" he said, with gentle irony, "at least now I know I can handle it."

Fleur, with a sincere look, spoke softly: "I'm sorry for lying about the food being wizard-made" she said. "But I had a feeling you would enjoy it."

Lucius looked at her seriously, the intensity in his eyes reflecting his thoughts. "Or perhaps you just wanted to test whether I was still bound by old habits."

Fleur smiled softly, recognizing his accuracy. "Touché. I admit I wanted to better understand where I stood. But what I said earlier was true as well. I had a feeling you would like it."

Lucius observed her for a moment, his serious expression softening. "And how did I fare in your test?"

Fleur sighed, carefully considering his question before responding: "You're doing well, Lucius, you're doing well."

Lucius observed her for a moment, his serious expression softening. The silence that followed was filled with a light tension, as if both were absorbing the unusual test Fleur had put him through and the meaning of what they had just said to each other.

The silence was interrupted by the sound of a gentle knock on the windowpane. Fleur looked towards the window and saw a large black owl perched there, carrying a message. Lucius walked to the window, opened it with a casual gesture, and took the message from the owl.

He unrolled the parchment, a slight shadow of irritation crossing his face, and read in silence: "It's from Rita. She informs us that she intends to visit later to share some news, and unexpectedly complains that I never respond to her messages."

Lucius made a disdainful expression and commented: "Her owl must be notoriously incompetent, for I haven't received anything before this. But why does she need to come to my house? She could very well convey the news through the same owl, which, at least, seems capable of delivering messages."

Fleur, who had already resumed inventorying the jewels, commented: "I think she's worried the message might get lost and cause problems. And she'll possibly want to make some remark about the Hogsmeade apartment you lent her. Anyway, we'll know soon enough." She adjusted her glasses and, with a slight smile, said, "Let's get to work."

Lucius began the task of checking the jewels, his gaze falling on the bag containing the pasta. Although Fleur's spell had contained the aroma, he couldn't help but think about the meal they had discussed.

For a moment, he remained silent, trying to focus on the work before him. Finally, he broke the silence with a touch of lightness in his voice: "I must admit that even though it's not wizard-made, this pasta is excellent. But do you really go to the Muggle center just to fetch it? I'm not sure it's worth the effort. Perhaps it's more practical to ask my butler to taste it next time and try to replicate it here at home."

Fleur smiled, almost amused, and replied, "I didn't go to the center just for that. My sister Gabrielle is expecting a baby. She married a non-wizard Australian, and they live in the Muggle center of London, right next to that pasta house."

Lucius held his breath, his eyes locking onto Fleur with an intensity only he could muster. "Your sister married a Muggle?"

Fleur remained calm, but the seriousness in her tone was unmistakable. "You couldn't hide your disgust this time, Lucius."

Lucius took a deep breath, fighting against his instincts before murmuring, "I'm sorry, it's just that... I can't stop thinking about your parents. The disappointment they must feel."

Fleur responded with a smile that was both reassuring and ironic. "Don't worry too much about my parents, Lucius. They are thrilled with the idea of their first grandchild."

Lucius expressed incredulity. "Even your father? I remember him from some meetings at the hunting club, he always struck me as quite the traditional wizard."

Fleur laughed softly, "My father, it's true, has some reluctance towards unexpected changes. But my mother, after the initial shock, always ends up supporting us, trying to mediate the situation with him. I suppose I paved the way for Gabrielle when I refused an arranged marriage and, at 19, married a wizard I barely knew, someone from a family my parents had never heard of."

Lucius nodded slowly, as if this revelation only confirmed his concerns. "And not long after, you were divorced. It seems, in the end, your father was right."

She met his gaze with a challenging look, her voice firm. "And you? You had an arranged marriage, stayed in it for an eternity, and now you're divorced as well. Tell me, who was right after all?"

Lucius fixed his gaze on Fleur, his eyes hardening. "Right? Who can say? But at least I followed what I was taught. You and your sister, on the other hand, chose the path of rebellion, a path that could very well extinguish the Delacour legacy in the blink of an eye. And all because of companions who, frankly, are nothing but fools without substance. Tell me, was it truly worth it?"

Fleur, however, stood firm, not backing down from Lucius's provocation. "Lucius" she began, with a more controlled tone, each word carefully chosen, "I'm not going to defend my ex-husband, because he indeed turned out to be a fool, but you don't know John to judge him like this."

She paused, searching for the right words to express what she felt. "Gabrielle could be trapped in an arranged wizarding marriage with someone who didn't respect her, who cheated on her, or who was detestable in countless other ways. And John is the complete opposite of that."

Lucius rolled his eyes, as if trying to find some truth in Fleur's words. "But their baby might not even be a wizard."

Fleur shrugged with a calm confidence. "I find that very unlikely. Gabrielle is a Veela, and ancestral magic is stronger in us. Besides, she practices daily so that the baby feels the magical energy flowing even in the womb."

Lucius, still skeptical and unable to dismiss his worries, asked, his voice laden with suspicion, "But what if this John mistreats the baby for being a wizard? What if he doesn't know how to handle a child who might manifest magic from an early age?"

Fleur responded with a soft laugh, but her tone was firm and assured, like someone who knew the people she was talking about well. "Firstly, Gabrielle would kill him; secondly, John has a deep fascination with wizarding culture. He would never do such a thing."

She paused, observing Lucius's reaction, then continued, trying to dispel his mistrust. "He is so captivated by our world that after learning about wizards who integrated into Muggle culture, he began researching them on his own. Now, his hobby is discovering who those wizards were and how they stood out in the Muggle world. I find it quite amusing."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, the sarcasm evident in his expression. "Wizards hiding in Muggle culture? What a fascinating subject" he said, his voice dripping with irony.

Fleur wasn't fazed, keeping the enthusiasm in her voice. "I find it deeply fascinating" she replied with conviction. "The story of Elvis Presley, for example, is full of adventure, romance, and touches of destiny."

Lucius raised his other eyebrow, a skeptical look taking over his face. "Elvis Presley? The Quidditch player who disappeared at the height of his career and reappeared decades later, never explaining where he had been?" His disbelief was almost palpable, as if the idea were so absurd it didn't deserve consideration.

"Exactly" Fleur replied, with a gleam of satisfaction at finally having something that surprised him. "During his disappearance, he became a monumental icon in Muggle music, and believe it or not: he was known as 'The King,' the same title he had in Quidditch. It's as if his destiny was always to be a king, wherever he was."

Lucius gave an ironic smile, the disbelief still evident. "Or, my dear" he said, his voice loaded with skepticism, "as a wizard, he used some sort of persuasive magic to make the Muggles call him what he was celebrated for in the wizarding world. It's a far more plausible hypothesis, if you ask me."

Fleur's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "I don't think it's like that, Lucius. If you listened to his songs, you would understand why they call him 'The King.'"

Lucius let out a dry laugh, as if the idea were absurd. "Listening to a Quidditch player sing Muggle music? No, thank you, Fleur. That would certainly be among my least favorite activity."

Fleur shook her head, a gesture of disbelief, though her tone carried a lightness that suggested she had expected that response. "Music, like any form of art, transcends its origins. What really matters is the impact it has and the debate it sparks within us. If you can't appreciate it, Lucius, the loss is only yours. And honestly, I think you're losing more than you realize."

Lucius let out a sigh, his gaze fixed on her, now more contemplative. "Although my knowledge of wizarding art is considerably vast, I recognize that there is still an infinity of artistic movements and contemporary wizard artists that I wish to explore more thoroughly. So, before venturing into the universe of Muggle artists..."

"Okay, Lucius," Fleur interrupted, an ironic smile dancing on her lips. "You've traded the supremacist speech for the condescending one. Good for you."

Lucius gazed at her in silence for a few moments, the intensity in his eyes revealing a hint of vulnerability. He realized that his comments had ruined the friendly atmosphere that had been established. "But, despite everything, I think I still passed the test of Muggle food, didn't I?" He finally asked, in a tone that was almost hesitant, as if trying to regain the balance between them.

Fleur tilted her head slightly, an indulgent smile emerging at the corner of her mouth. "Yes, Lucius, you earned a point for not freaking out when eating Muggle food. It was progress, I admit." She then paused, her expression softening before continuing, "But you lost two points, one for Elvis and another for John."

Lucius was stunned, as if the ground had given way beneath his feet. "The Muggle food test should have had more weight! I deserved far more than a measly point" he exclaimed, the indignation evident in his voice. "This is deeply unfair!"

Fleur let out a laugh, her voice echoing through the room. "Welcome to my world, Malfoy" she replied, with a playful wink. "Now, let's get back to work. There's a lot to do."

With one last look of disbelief, Lucius took a deep breath, picked up his inventory scroll again, and, in a resigned tone, said:

"All right, let's get to work. But tomorrow, could we please have a traditional dinner? In the dining room, with proper plates and cutlery?"

Fleur smiled, still focused on the inventory. "All right, Lucius, if we finish everything in time for dinner. We could have an old-fashioned supper."

Feeling victorious, Lucius broke into a smile and asked, "May I choose a wine from my cellar to accompany it?"

Fleur looked at him with some hesitation before responding, "Lucius, we still have over a thousand jewels to check, literally. I don't think it's a good idea to compromise our perception with wine."

Lucius leaned back in his chair like a spoiled child, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Training, dinners with wine… you just keep promising me things and delivering nothing, Delacour."

Fleur, surprised, took off her glasses and stared at him with an incredulous expression. "And since when did I promise dinners with wine, Lucius?"

Lucius felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized that Fleur was right; indeed, she had never mentioned a dinner with wine. The silence that followed carried a light tension, but before it could deepen, Fleur, with a spirited glint in her eyes, gave his hand a light pat, breaking the ice with a soft laugh. "Look, if we manage to check at least 400 jewels today, I promise that when we finish everything, I'll bring a special wine for our celebration dinner."

She smiled in a way that mixed challenge and camaraderie, and Lucius felt the light atmosphere return, as if that simple gesture had dissipated any discomfort. The prospect of a celebration seemed pleasant, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to enjoy a quiet dinner with Fleur, savoring the success of their completed task.

Now more animated and confident, Lucius gave a contained smile, yet one full of satisfaction. "Four hundred, you say? Well then, my dear, you can prepare that wine. I got up early and advanced our work; 405 jewels have already been catalogued today."

Fleur's eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly grabbed the catalog list, completing, incredulous: "That doesn't count, Lucius! I was talking about now, during the evening. Besides, you only catalogued the easiest jewels."

Lucius couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, leaning slightly closer with a playful glint in his eyes. "Easiest, you say? Maybe. But it still counts, doesn't it?"

Fleur sighed, shaking her head with a smile that was both exasperated and amused. "All right, you win this time, Malfoy. But don't think I'll go easy on you tomorrow."

Lucius leaned back in his chair, looking more relaxed than before. "I wouldn't dream of it, Fleur. Tomorrow, we tackle the hardest ones, and after that, perhaps we'll earn that wine."

Fleur's smile softened as she looked at him, a hint of warmth in her eyes. "Perhaps, Lucius. But for now, let's focus on what's ahead. We've got a lot of work to do before we can even think about celebrating."

Lucius nodded, his expression growing more serious as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. But beneath the surface, there was a sense of anticipation, a subtle shift in the dynamic between them that hinted at possibilities beyond just completing their inventory.

Lucius, maintaining an air of refined irony, responded with subtle humor. "My dear Delacour, allow me to offer you some advice: be more precise when making promises to Lucius Malfoy."

Fleur, noticing Lucius's inclination for cunning, laughed while shaking her head. "You really are an opportunist, aren't you?"

He responded with a satisfied smile. "I've never understood why the word 'opportunist' carries a negative connotation. To me, it's one of the highest compliments: the ability to see and seize opportunities where others only see obstacles."

She looked at him, a playful glint in her eyes, realizing she was up against a formidable competitor. "Well, it seems we'll be having a wine-filled dinner, then, won't we?"

Lucius inclined his head, his smile now more refined, almost challenging. "And let me remind you, the wine will be on your account, at least the first bottle, of course."

Fleur let out a laugh, appreciating Lucius's knack for always trying to shape circumstances to his favor. "One bottle will be more than enough, Lucius. Don't delude yourself into thinking there'll be an opportunity for more."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, a provocative sparkle dancing in his eyes. "Perhaps not tomorrow" he murmured, with an enigmatic tone.

Fleur shook her head, still smiling, as she pulled the inventory list towards her, her eyes scanning the precisely arranged jewels. Her fingers gently touched an imposing emerald necklace, its green light vibrating under the room's illumination.

Both were aware that the battle of wills that had begun at the Crystal Eye was far from over; on the contrary, it was just beginning to reveal itself in its entirety. Each, in silence, recognized in the other a worthy adversary, someone who would not easily yield ground.