Toxic Envy

He marched up the stairs, newspaper clutched tightly in his hand and his dark robes fluttering wildly behind him as he moved. A house elf carried a basket full of laundry on it’s skinny, little arms down on its way down stairs. Lucius rushed past him and in a swirl of clothes the basket dropped and the house elf tumbled down the stairs, bouncing against each step. Normally Lucius would have stopped to lash out at the house elf for it’s utter stupidity.

But not this time, Lucius thought as he reached the top of the stairs. His anger was only reserved for one person and that was the one who had caused in it the first place.

“Narcissa!” Lucius shouted out loud as he turned to the right corridor. “Narcissa!”

His voice was so loud that the people residing in the paintings on the wall woke up. Some jumped and were startled, while others glared at cursed Lucius as he swept past them. An overweight vampire who was in the process of biting a young witch’s neck suddenly stopped and turned to Lucius.

“Is it too much to ask to have a nice, quiet breakfast?!” the vampire bellowed and shook a fist at Lucius.

Ignoring all the curses and shouts from the paintings, Lucius walked on without even showing the slightest hint of anything but anger. He was breathing faster and his otherwise very pale skin had reddened just a little. The newspaper in his hand would have been torn into thousands of pieces if it wasn’t for the fact that he still had use for it. He had been so upset that he didn’t even think about his serpent decorated cane lay abandoned and forgotten in the dining room. Finally reaching a door at the end of the corridor, he slammed his fist violently against it.

“Narcissa!” he shouted again and pushed down the door-handle to see if it was open. When he discovered that it was locked, he banged his fist against the door again. “Open the bloody door or I’ll blast the...”

The door flung open in the middle of the sentence, revealing Narcissa standing there and leaning slightly against the door. She had changed into a gren robe and judging by the way she had tied her sash Lucius could tell that she had put the robe on in a hurry.

“You better have a good reason for all that shouting,” she said and gave him an irritated look. “You haven’t been this anxious to get into my bedroom since our wedding night.”

The only answer she got was the Daily Prophet thrown into her face. She instinctively brought up her hands but failed the catch the falling newspaper as it slipped right through her hand. Lucius met her questioning gaze but kept quiet. Finally, Narcissa bent down and picked up the newspaper from the floor. He watched her closely as she unfolded it and saw the headline and pictures on the front page. While she read a short summary of the article, he read her emotions by studying the expressions on her face.

Her eyes widened a little, a small sign of curiousity or surprise. A hardly visible contration between her eyebrows, a sign of her feeling some sort of irritation. She bit a small portion of her bottom lip, a sign of nervousness. Lucius had known her and studied her long enough to what made her tick. But even after all those years, Narcissa surprised him by putting on an indifferent look on her face.

“Hogsmeade has become rather dangerous at night, hasn’t it?” she said lightly and handed the newspaper back to Lucius. “The dementors patrol the area and my disgraced, murderous, blasted-off-the-family-tree cousin could be somewhere around that area... I must write to Draco and ask him to be extra careful on his trips to Hogsmeade.”

She turned away from him and walked further in to the room, stopping in front of the dressing-table. There, she slowly sat down at a padded stool and picked up a brush. Lucius almost dropped both jaw and newspaper when Narcissa casually started to brush her hair. Nothing else? Not even the slightest hint of guilt or even pride of her cold blooded and foolish deed? He felt the anger rise within him, almost to the point of possession.

Stepping inside the room, he violently slammed the door shut. The loud and sudden sound caused Narcissa to jump slightly but she regained her composure quickly and went on brushing her hair as if nothing had happened. So calm, no even a hint of guilt or fear.

Like a true Malfoy, Lucius realized and felt the anger within him lessen.

“I assume it’s your mistress on the front page?” Narcissa inquired. It sounded like she was talking about the weather rather than a cold-blooded murder.

“Yes, I was hoping that you could tell me how she got there,” Lucius retorted. He could see her puzzled face through the mirror. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake!”

Anger rose up again and the little control he had over it burst. Grabbing Narcissa’s arm, he forcefully yanked her up from the stool and towards him. She let out a quiet gasp, shocked at his rough treatment of her. The brush fell out of her grasp and bounced against the floor before dropping to it once again. Lucius paid no attention to it.

“Lucius!” Narcissa whispered, trying to pull her arm out of his grip. “What are you doing?! Let me go!”

“How could you be so stupid?! Going to Hogsmeade last night and killing her?!”

His already tyrannical grip on her tightened.

“What?! I didn’t...”

“The hell you didn’t!” Lucius cut off. “How come there was a dead body in Hogsmeade after you had left the manor?!”

“I didn’t kill her!”

“Then what were you doing last night?!”

The room suddenly became enveloped in silence. Narcissa looked away, refusing to have eye contact with Lucius. Her face had become flushed and Lucius could clearly see that she was trying to figure out what to say to him. He didn’t even notice that his fingers tightened around her arm once again. Narcissa winced slightly at the pain.

“You’re hurting me.”

“I know.”

She turned her gaze back to him and for a brief moment he actually thought that she looked vulnerable. But that fleeting, uncertain moment was disrupted when both Lucius and Narcissa felt a familiar chill flow through the room.

Edgar had glided through the door and stopped right next to them.

“Master.”

“What is it?!” Lucius snapped. He let go of Narcissa’s arm and she quickly put some distance between them. Casting a glance at her arm, he saw intense red marks where his hand had been and knew that she was going to get a big bruise.

“Master, two Aurors have arrived.”

Both Lucius and Narcissa’s eyes widened and darted towards Edgar. Whatever pain or anger they had just felt was immediately forgotten about.

“They wish to speak with the mistress.

Somewhere else in the manor, a sudden sneeze echoed through the sitting room.

Miranda Matthews turned around at the sudden sound, her wand drawn and firmly placed in her hand. It was of pure reflex she did that each time she was startled, but as an Auror it was a good reflex that had proved to be valuable in hazardous situations. However, she had turned around only to see her friend and colleague standing behind her and fumbling with a handkerchief.

“Just my cold, Miranda,” Prudence Russell said and her voice did a good job of confirming it.

“You should have called in sick,” Miranda answered, genuinely concerned about Prue who always became ill around that time of the year. But Prue just shook her head and brushed off Miranda’s suggestion.

“Nonsense. It’s just a little cold, it will pass. Besides, can’t afford to stay at home now when the ministry has everyone working on the Sirius Black case. We’ll probably need every man and woman to reel that one back into Azkaban.”

By the way Prue scoffed the last sentence it wouldn’t surprise Miranda if she had finished it with “...which doesn’t explain why we were sent here”. Truth to be told, a part of Miranda agreed with Prue. Sirius Black was on the loose and there wasn’t one family, wizard or muggle, that kept their children inside out of fear of the notorious criminal. But despite that, she and Prue had been assigned to the case of the witch who was found dead in Hogsmeade. It didn’t take a genius to see that it had been a murder. There was evidence of a physical confrontation before the victim had been finished off by Avada Kadavra. What was curious about the case that there was a very unlikely suspect. The prime suspect was, of course, Sirius Black but an anonymous witness had claimed to see a woman leaving the house around the time of the murder. That woman had been identified as Lucius Malfoy’s wife.

Someone had deemed the witness trustworthy enough and assigned both Miranda and Prue on the case. Both of them had sighed in disbelief when they had been told to question Narcissa Malfoy. Not only were both of them convinced that Sirius Black was the one to chase after, but they also knew that Lucius Malfoy would be less than pleased if he found out that his beloved wife was suspected of murder.

“I know,” Miranda finally answered, realizing that she had been silent for quite a while. “But orders are orders... let’s just see what we get out of this one.”

Prue nodded silently and as if on queue the sound of footsteps reached their ears and they both turned to left to see the Malfoys entering the sitting room. They both entered at the same time, not a second before or after the other. Miranda only knew the Malfoys by name and rumour and had never personally met them but she found everything she had imagined about them to be right the moment she laid eyes on them. There was a touch of elegance and arrogance to both of them, a pride of knowing that they were of noble and old blood. It was a feeling that one got by simply looking at them and Miranda didn’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted.

“Mrs Matthews, Miss Russell,” Lucius greeted politely as the couple approached the two Aurors. “What a surprise to see you this early.”

Miranda decided not to dwell on how Lucius already knew their names and martial status before actually meeting them. Instead, she forced a smile on her lips and took Lucius’ hand when he offered it to her to shake.

“We apologize for visiting this early, Mr Malfoy,” Miranda said, speaking for Prue as well. The latter had deemed herself less good with words and resigned to being the more silent and observing one while Miranda did most of the speaking. “But I am afraid we have a few urgent questions to ask Mrs Malfoy that cannot wait.”

“Please, have a seat,” Narcissa offered as a group of house elves came in, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits on their skinny, little arms.

Narcissa gestured gracefully towards a sofa behind the two Aurors. They smiled politely in return and sat down. Lucius and Narcissa followed and sat down next to each other. The two pairs faced each other as the house elves diligently brought the tray to the low table between them and poured hot, steaming tea into four cups. When the house elves were done, they silently sneaked back into the shadows and tried to exit the room as quietly and unnoticeable as possible.

“I assume you have read the Daily Prophet today, Mrs Malfoy?” Miranda asked casually.

“I can’t say I have,” Narcissa replied as she nonchalantly poured a little milk in her tea. “Is there something in there I should know about?”

“We discovered a witch murdered in Hogsmeade during the night,” Miranda explained and briefly considered sipping her tea. “It is on the front page of today’s Daily Prophet.”

“How dreadful.”

Narcissa said those two words with such indifference that it surprised Miranda. Any other woman might have sounded indifferent as well, but there was something about Narcissa’s tone that revealed that there could be a hundred murders for all she cared as long as they weren’t related to her in anyway. She cast one quick glance at Prue and knew that she was thinking the same.

“Her name was Bianca Austen... did you know her?” Miranda questioned. When Narcissa shook her head Miranda continued speaking. “Twenty-six years old, a waitress as the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. No family or distant relatives that we know of. Are you sure that you haven’t met or seen her?”

Miranda was eager to find out whether they were wasting time here or if there was a truth to what the anonymous witness had said. But as soon as she had spoken she wasn’t sure that the last question had been tactful. In the corner of her eyes she could see that Lucius looked somewhat irritated. But he stayed silent and waited for Narcissa to answer.

“I assure you, Mrs Matthews,” Narcissa responded with a touch of cold to her voice. “I have met a lot of people and I often pride myself on the fact that I remember their faces and names so well. If I had met this Bianca Austen, I would have remembered.”

“Mrs Malfoy, would you mind telling us where you were last night?” Prue suddenly asked after being silent for so long, almost startling Miranda. “Sometime around... around two or three this morning.”

“I was here in the manor... asleep.”

“Really?” Prue said and her eyes drifted to Lucius. “Mr Malfoy?”

“I was asleep as well if that is what you are asking,” Lucius answered, the tone of his voice revealing that he didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “I hope you are not suspecting my wife for this... ill deed. I can assure you that she was with me the entire night and that there is no reason to subject her to any suspicions you might have.”

Miranda’s foot gave Prue’s a light kick that was not noticed by anyone but themselves. She hoped that Prue would take the hint and be quiet, while she once again forced her lips to smile towards Lucius.

“No... of course not, Mr Malfoy.”

Half an hour later Miranda emerged from one of the many fireplaces in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. She brushed and shook the ashes off her robes while she spoke to Prue who had arrived a few seconds before her.

“My face hurts from all that smiling,” Miranda muttered.

She thanked Merlin for not being raised or living in a high society family, such as the Malfoys, where one had to smile politely at everyone. It was a miracle that their faces didn’t cramp up. When Miranda didn’t receive an answer from Prue, she looked up and saw that Prue was looking back at the fireplace they had emerged from. It almost looked as if she wanted to go back.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know... “ Prue said after a few quiet seconds. “I can’t put my finger on it but something seems wrong about this.”

“The Malfoys have been doing this since You-Know-Who’s fall,” Miranda spoke in a hushed voice. “Denying any crime or involvement with the dark... it wouldn’t surprise me if they had something to do with this murder, but the odds are a little against us on this. We have an anonymous witness who for all we know could be a drunk and randomly pointed someone out. Even if it was Narcissa Malfoy who did it... we’re going to have a hard time proving it with her husband running to Fudge and convincing him otherwise or that Sirius Black did it.”

Prue nodded quietly as they both started to walk towards the elevators.

“You’re right. But still... I’d like to think that there is a lot more to this than what we suspect.”