One
minute I held the key
Next
the walls were closed on me
And
I discovered that my castles stand
Upon
pillars of salt, and pillars of sand
COLDPLAY – Viva la vida
If only he had the slightest
clue what they were doing here. Lurking in the cold, drenched by rain, in the
middle of the night without knowing why was rather unsatisfying. For all Lucius
could say, they were waiting for a delivery. The waning spirits of his
companions didn’t improve the general situation either.
“Rooted to the spot – I
never knew what that phrase really means,”
Karkaroff muttered and received some sniggers for the remark. “Bloody English
climate!”
“Can’t imagine it’s so much
better in Russia, is it!”
“You mark my words, Malfoy,
it is not raining eleven days out of
ten!”
“I’ve got a terrible itch.
That owl is killing me!”
“Try chasing it away then,
Avery!”
“Why are the Lestranges
allowed to wait in that cellar while we’re standing here?!”
“Just shut it, Yaxley.”
“I’d rather trade places with Kegg, you know!”
“Kegg cannot transform
himself into a tree, though.”
“Well, perhaps he’d manage
some bush?”
“If you don’t shut up I’ll
transfigure you into firewood as soon as this is over! All of you!”
Thus, the strange, barren
trees fell silent again and stared at the back entrance they were monitoring.
The small barn owl sitting on a particularly strong branch still ruffled its
feathers, and in the distance, a clock was striking two times. Lucius was as
discontent as everybody else, but at least he didn’t speak his mind. His
thoughts trailed away – home – to his wife. He knew she didn’t go to bed before
he was back, she never did, but he pictured her tugged up in their warm
comfortable bed all the same, in that favourite negligee of his. Oh, Cissa,
warm, soft, tender Cissa; he longed to lie down next to her and wrap her up in
his arms...
Indeed, Narcissa was still
up, waiting. She blankly refused going to bed before her husband was home in
nights like this. If he was just out with some friends or business partners,
she might lie down and read a book, but if he was gone for an assignment, she
was too restless for that much. She had no exact idea what he was doing on
those occasions; she thought she didn’t want to know, but she knew that it
might be dangerous.
Her greatest solace was the
fact that Lucius indeed had a unique gift for Dark Magic. He hadn’t achieved
his rank in the Dark Order for nothing! No, he was a mighty fighter, almost
unrivalled in his powers. Perhaps
Bella was en par with him – and then there was his master, of course – but
otherwise, nobody could match him.
His master, ph! Narcissa remembered very well how much she had admired
young Tom Riddle – most excellent student Hogwarts had ever seen – and how
enthusiastic she had been when understanding that he of all persons should be
the one to instruct Lucius. No, in that regard, she didn’t suffer from amnesia.
Only her assessment of the situation had changed diametrically. Tom Riddle – or
how he nowadays styled himself: Lord Voldemort (ts!) – was certainly a genius
in his own right, but he was also a dangerous lunatic, if one asked the wife of
his right-hand-man.
To give an example – when he
had realised that Lucius knew the secret of his origin, he had completely
freaked out, had downright threatened him, and even though Lucius had never
mentioned it, she was fairly sure that the damned man had threatened her as well. That was his usual
strategy. As a consequence, she had started to learn Occlumency and taught it
to Lucius as well. When one of his Death Eaters was insubordinate, the
punishment was severe. And if one tried to resign, the punishment was death – and
not the quick and painless sort! Narcissa hadn’t got the least bit of sympathy
for that line of policy, all the more because she didn’t understand what he wanted. For all she could see, he didn’t
have any rational purpose at all. He had founded an order, coerced his men to
pledge their lives to him – and since then, he just dabbled around. He
frequently had Muggles killed, and Muggle-born, and people openly sympathizing
with either. He’d also let his people assault Ministry wizards or Wizengamot
members, but nothing of all this seemed to lead
anywhere much. And for this nonsense, Lucius was risking everything?!
The decay of his rational
capacities had gone hand in hand with the complete destruction of the man’s
appearance. Remembering that photo she had so often looked at, the handsome,
delicate face with the piercing, dark eyes and wavy dark hair, she couldn’t
imagine how it had come to this. All
right, so he had become older, but people got older all the time! Nowadays, his
skin was white like wax; it looked not so much unhealthy but unnatural, and speaking of unnatural – what on earth was wrong with his eyes?! They were no longer dark, but
rather red. His features were altered beyond recognition as well; no one right
in their mind would have suspected him to have been a good-looking fellow in
his teens!
He had heard about
Narcissa’s talent and intelligence, and even though only very few witches were
serving him, it had been suggested that she should join up as well. A simple
‘No, thanks’ was no option though, even less for the wife of Lucius Malfoy.
Narcissa still shuddered when thinking of that night, and how very, very lucky she had been. She had always
taken a certain amount of pride in her countenance; she wasn’t one to flinch,
or let her thoughts and emotions show. That night, she hadn’t been so much
proud of that ability – she had felt rather blessed.
The meeting had taken place
in Magna Timor, the Lestranges’ country mansion. Originally, they had been
supposed to gather in Malfoy Manor, but both Lucius and Narcissa had deemed
that a pretty bad idea. It was never prudent to invite guests when there was just
a small chance that they might encounter Abraxas, and it was decidedly unsafe
to invite that particular set of people. Whatever he might say, Lucius didn’t
want to see his father being killed, and that would have been a likely outcome
should the old man meet the other old
man. Abraxas could never keep his mouth shut, let alone his mind.
Bella, of course, had been
all for the idea, and Narcissa had been prudent enough to never do as much as
hint at her utter disinclination to become another of Voldemort’s servants. So
she had smiled modestly, had trembled a little, and spoken of the ‘great
honour’ – all the while she had stood up the old warlock’s inquisitive gaze,
seemingly allowing him to search her mind but actually only showing him what he
was supposed to see – her diffidence, her horror of violence, her fears and
hesitations. He had soon enough interrupted the interrogation with a dismissive
gesture.
“She’s not fit to be one of
us,” he had stated in disdain, addressing Lucius and Bella as if Narcissa
wasn’t even there. “Too soft. She’ll never do what it takes in the crucial
moment!”
“But Master!” Bella had
cried.
“Silence! You’ve heard me.”
Narcissa had lowered her
head and let her shoulders sink. “Give me another chance, my lord, I beg you –”
“She is the smartest witch I
have ever met,” Lucius had dutifully thrown in. “I have taught her a little,
and if you could take over to
instruct her –”
“I’ll not waste my time on a
lost cause, and that’s the last I’ll say on the case!”
Lucius had trimmed his face
into defeated resignation, Narcissa had managed to let her eyes well up, Bella
had put on a pout – and that had been it, then. Later that night, she and
Lucius had drunken two bottles of the best champagne in Abraxas’ cellar to
celebrate their victory.
She sometimes wondered
whether her decision had been right. As a Death Eater, she could at least be
with her husband... Now she was
sitting at home, staring out of the window into black nothingness and almost
biting her fingernails with the unbearable tension. ‘He’s an awesome Dark
wizard,’ she kept on reminding herself, ‘his powers are only rivaled by his
master’s, nothing can happen to him, nothing will happen to him, before long
he’ll be right back with me, it will be all right.’
She repeated that mantra,
which was less optimistic but desperate, all through the night’s darkest hours,
while a storm was raging outside, but she hardly noticed the hail and
lightning. What if something happened to him? What if he was injured! Or if he
got himself arrested? Or if... No! She didn’t allow herself to do as much as think of it! Nothing would happen to
him! Everything would be
fine, she kept on telling herself. Everything was fine, more than just
fine. Her life was heaven! She
was sitting in an armchair next to the window of their bedroom, until she
couldn’t endure it any longer, wrapped herself up in a large pashmina and
sneaked out and up into the library.
She had not quite entered it
when almost bumping into Abraxas. “You haven’t been to bed yet,” he stated matter-of-factly,
appraising her with narrowed eyes. “That boy has earned himself a sound
thrashing for troubling you so, my dear.”
“I’m fine, Father. Nothing’s
the matter. I just meant to get a book –”
“I know you always stick up
for him and I give you credit for that loyalty, but you know that I am right.”
“No, you’re not, Father.”
She gave him her most charming smile, anxious to change the topic. She didn’t
know how long she could keep up that sham, because truth was – she was so
nervous, she was on the verge of crying. “But why are you still up, hm?”
“For the same reason like
you. I’m waiting for my son to come back home, safe and sound. You cannot fool
me, Narcissa. You know, I’ve half a mind to tell your father what your
nonsensical sister and my wayward son are going on about. Perhaps together we
–”
“No!” she cried, aghast.
“You mustn’t do that! You must promise to me that you will not do that! Papa’s got a weak heart, he –”
“I know, dear. But what do you think will happen to him if your sister
is caught, eh? Or killed, straightaway!”
“Nothing will happen to
her,” she murmured stubbornly. “She’s incredible with the Dark Arts – and so is
Lucius, incidentally! He is an awesome wizard, Father, when will you finally
acknowledge that? Nothing will happen to him!”
Her father-in-law shot her a
benevolent, sad smile. “It’s called ‘wishful thinking’, my dear child. No
matter how powerful some wizard is, there’ll always come along another one
sooner or later even more powerful.”
“Don’t, Father, please! Stop
it, I pray you!”
But he didn’t, of course.
“He’d never listen to me, but if you
could talk to him, dear. He hasn’t got an ounce of common sense, but he’ll do
what you’ll say and –”
“I’ll do nothing of the
kind, Father! I’d condemn him to his death! Haven’t you heard what happened to
Carl deWinter?! You cannot resign from the Dark Order, they’ve sworn an oath of life-long
service!”
“Foolish children! All of
them! Pledging their lives to – to what, actually?! I’ve never grasped what
they’re even fighting for!”
Yes, well… To be honest,
Narcissa didn’t quite understand that herself. Straining to remain calm, she
murmured, “It doesn’t matter, does it? One cause or another… I’ve never
believed in causes and crusades; nothing of all this is worth dying for if you
want my opinion. But that is the
pivotal point – neither your opinion, nor mine, nor Lucius’, has any weight in
the question. He cannot go back, it’s as simple as that!”
“If he at least had a son –”
Abraxas sighed.
Narcissa knew what’d come
next, and she thought she really had no nerve for that discussion. “We will
have a son one day, Father, and you
need not worry that the family line has come to an end. Lucius will return
soon, he’ll return tomorrow and every other goddamned day and sooner or later
we will have a child together and everything will be bloody fine!”
She had pressed the words
through clenched teeth, but it was her untypical use of the word ‘bloody’ that startled
Abraxas, made him reach out for her arm and press it gently. “You know what I
mean, my dear. Forgive an old man for fretting that his son is the last branch
of an old tree.”
“I am sorry for speaking out
of turn, Father,” she replied deliberately mildly and did her best to smile.
In this moment, they were
interrupted. “Master! Master!” Breathlessly, Nobby Apparated right between
them, clutching a newspaper – an extra edition it would seem – and waving with
it at his master before realising who else was here. “Oh! My Lady Narcissa! Disturbing
– I’m disturbing you – I better –”
And he would have
Disapparated on the spot again if Narcissa had not grabbed his arm. “What is
it?” she asked urgently, her grip on him steely, unrelenting and wrestling the
paper out of his tiny hands.
Abraxas tried to intervene.
“Don’t, Narcissa, you mustn’t –”
“What’s this! What –” Only
then, she could read the headline on the front page and her heart stopped
beating.
MINISTRY
TRIUMPHS! SIX DEATH EATERS KILLED!
She didn’t notice that she
was swaying, she didn’t notice that her knees gave way, she didn’t notice that
Abraxas and Nobby caught her before she hit the ground. Cursing his son under
his breath, Abraxas called for more elves and together, they transported the
barely conscious witch back to her bedroom, put her down on the large bed, put
cushions under her head and spread blankets over her body. Tears were streaming
down her face like sheets of rain, and she kept on chanting, “No, no, no, he’s
fine, he’s fine, he’ll be home in a minute, he’s fine, nothing can happen to
him, he’s fine –”
Abraxas was a tough old
codger, but his one soft spot was his young daughter-in-law, and it broke his
heart to see her like this. His compassion even overruled his own worries for
his son, it drowned out even the seething anger for a little while. “Shhh,
shhh, my dearest, the blithering arse will come home to you soon… You said it
yourself, he is a mighty Dark Wizard. It’ll all be all right. Shhh…”
But Narcissa wasn’t to be
soothed. In fact, the crying got harder and harder; she was shaken violently
with sobs, and Abraxas’ fury returned with a vengeance. That stupid,
irresponsible excuse for a son of his! How could he inflict such pain on that
poor girl?! Oh, let him come home and Abraxas would teach him a lesson he was bound
to remember!
The door was opened without
a sound and the old man expected to see another elf popping in to check on its
mistress, but it was the bloody boy himself and not thinking twice, Abraxas
grabbed his wand and hurled a curse at him. Lucius barely managed to duck and
cast a shield charm, and Narcissa screeched and was out of bed with one quick
leap and hurled herself into her husband’s arms.
“You wayward worm, you
pathetic dunderhead of a good-for-nothing numbskull!” Abraxas boomed in the
background.
His son didn’t even notice
that outbreak, he only heard Narcissa’s hoarse whispers, “You’re back! You’re
back! I thought I should never see you again! You’re back with me!”
“I’ve sworn I’d never leave
you, did you forget?” he said under his breath, pressing her so tightly she
could hardly breathe. He couldn’t remember to have ever seen Narcissa cry like
this; she wasn’t the type to cry in the first place, and he didn’t quite grasp
what had happened to unsettle her so. A fight with Abraxas? A nightmare? What?
The he faintly registered the newspaper on the floor, front page on top, and
understood it all at once. Oh, shit. Damn it, damn it, damn it!
“Hey...” He gently chucked
her under the chin, made her look into his face, smiled at her, then wiped away
the tears from her cheeks. “Everything’s all right, mon ange –”
“All right?!” Abraxas thundered.
Lucius ignored him and
placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead. He didn’t know what to say. That nothing
had happened? That was a lie and she knew it; what was more – he never
deliberately lied to her. “I’m fine, ma chère, not a scratch. You must not
trouble yourself so...”
“Who’s dead?” Abraxas asked
now, his voice calmer, and Lucius was sort of grateful because at least on that
head, he had some answers to give.
“Spencer Kegg, the two
Nelson brothers, old Geoff Mortlake and – well –”
“Bella?” Narcissa groaned
with bated breath.
“Bella! No! She’s like
vermin, unstoppable, invincible and really –” He bit his lip. This was not the moment to divulge on Bella’s
latest atrocities. He didn’t tell Narcissa about her sister’s blood thirst if
he could prevent it anyhow. “No, I’m afraid Robinius is – he got killed.”
“Young Robinius Lestrange is
dead?” Abraxas asked, sounding slightly put out. ‘Young’ was, of course, only a
matter of perspective here. Robinius was – had been – an old man, but twenty years
Abraxas’ junior still. But the old man found back to his usual verve
immediately. “Oh, well. They had it coming!”
His shaking wife in his
arms, Lucius shot his father a grave look. “Tomorrow, Father. If you really want to discuss any of this, let
us speak tomorrow. I want to take
Cissa to bed now.”
And that was what he did.
Not ten minutes later, they were lying in bed together, tightly embracing, and
Narcissa whispered, “Was it very bad? I mean – close?”
Merlin, yes. More than
close. These damned museum wizards had been guarded by Aurors, who apparently
had expected a robbery – though they clearly hadn’t reckoned with a bunch of
Death Eaters attacking the delivery of... Well, Lucius still didn’t know what
had been supposed to be in that crate. His order had been to get the goddamned thing, and at least in
that respect, he had been successful, even if one third of his crew had lost
their lives for it. He had brought it to the master, who had quickly looked
through the contents, clearly dissatisfied because he had set it on fire with a
quick flick of his wand. The news that six of his men had died, he had answered
with a mere shrug. “Survival of the fittest – isn’t that what the Muggles say?”
Lucius kissed the top of
Narcissa’s head. “Do you truly want an answer, my love?”
She hesitated, before
murmuring, “I guess I do... After seeing that bloody paper...”
“I’ll make sure that never
happens again, Cissa. If I can’t promise you any better, I can at least see to
that!”
“So what happened?”
Nothing he said was a lie,
but he took great care to speak in casual tones as if to suggest that the course
of events had been but a slight change of routine. That strategy didn’t work
out, however, because he could feel her getting more and more tense.
“The Aurors have permission
to kill now?” she echoed.
“Apparently.”
“What if... Can
something...”
“Nah. Don’t you worry, my
love. I’m not scared of them. The most dangerous thing tonight were our own
folks. Kegg and one of the Nelsons died by friendly fire.”
Narcissa groaned. “Oh,
Merlin!”
*****
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