Bohemian Rhapsody

moment twenty-nine: a little case of history repeating (April 1979).

Lucius sat at his desk, idly tapping his quill against the parchment. Taking a few more moments, he wrote out a short note in a long flowing hand, thanking Narcissa for her company at the opera the previous night, and assuring her he enjoyed himself a great deal. Stamping it with the Malfoy crest, he placed it in the box of things that needed to be sent, and sat back, hands pressed together, reflecting upon the situation he'd gotten himself into.

Narcissa Morgan was a beautiful, intelligent passionate woman. She came from an old family, and the blood of high wizards ran through her veins: indeed, her pedigree was one of the best in England. He had courted her for nearly two months now, and he was aware he was increasingly fond of her. It wasn't like James, no, but would it be enough? He was also painfully alert to her obvious feelings for him - Narcissa was clearly besotted, and so Lucius felt a pang of guilt at dragging her into all of this.

There was a knock at the door, and he pushed such thoughts from his mind. The maidservant was there, waiting to be acknowledged. In the London residence he employed human servants, and reserved the house elves for Malfoy Manor. "What is it?," he asked, more brusquely than he meant to.

She curtsied, and begged his pardon. "There's a gentleman here to see you, Sir."

"Well, send him in." Lucius had no time for foolishness. The main quickly turned, and soon Lucius found himself looking at a young man with tufty, straggly hair - already balding despite the fact he had to be Severus' age. He narrowed his eyes. "I know you don't I?" It was a statement more than a question.

The young man nodded, and shuffled inside. "I hung out with James and his friends."

Lucius smacked his hands together sharply, causing his guest to jump, startled. "That's right! Patrick, isn't it?"

"Peter."

"Oh, sorry. Peter then." He gestured to a seat, and Peter promptly sat down, Lucius swivelling in his own chair to face him. "So what brings you to visit me?"

Peter hunched his body forward, and cautiously looked around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. Lucius resisted the temptation to laugh. "I...could be of use to you, and...certain interested parties."

"Really?" Lucius' face betrayed no emotion.

"I am still close friends with James, and Remus and Sirius, and through James Lily. They trust me."

"And you would be willing to sell them out to an unknown party?" Lucius sneered. "How noble of you."

Peter smiled thinly. "I think it's pretty well known where your loyalties lie, Malfoy."

"If you're right, the Ministry hasn't been able to prove it yet," Lucius parried, leaning back in his chair.

"Perhaps so. But they trust me, and through them, I am privy to some of Dumbledore's thoughts, and plans. Surely this could be valuable to you...and the people you represent."

"Say I say yes," Lucius proffered, leaning forward, cupping his hands together. "What's in it for you?"

"I've been taken for granted all my life," said Peter softly. "Always dismissed as trustworthy, or reliable, or if neither, too weak to do anything in any case. They just assume I'm on their side, because Peter does what he's told, good old Peter." He took in a deep breath. "I want them to fall, and I want to be the reason for it. I want them to finally realise that they can't just use me, and that it's all their own fault."

Lucius smiled. "I think that they'll have difficulty forgetting you, Peter, once we're through."