Hexing the Tide

Chapter Six

"For he who avenges blood remembers them. He doesn't forget the cry of the afflicted"

Psalm 9

I wanted the confrontation with my wife over as soon as possible. It had already been nearly a fortnight since the fall of Voldemort, and I did not want to give her more time to plot. The Order had some misgivings about my rush to battle, but Dumbledore supported my actions and, as always, that ended any debate.

Thus it was that I found myself at my own front gates a few nights later. Narcissa had evidently refused even an Auror on the property, so several lounged near the main gates and I was assured more were positioned at various posts around the property.

"And you expected that to be enough security?" I asked most imperiously. So much for his preaching.

Moody turned his blue eye to me. "Well, we are protecting her from you. But I think some more Aurors might turn up should anything happen. I've heard it's a slow night in Hogsmeade."

He let me pass without escort, so I circled the lands until I was far into a stand of trees. There I lay my wand against an oak and tapped.

The siege gates rose before me. I slipped through them into the foyer and quickly hid the portal. Once I completed my responsibilities, it would be my only chance to evade Azkaban.

"Narcissa dearest, I've returned for you..." I whispered to myself, whistling in the graveyard.

I was met by silence in the foyer, which was to be expected. She wanted me to come to her like she always did. What was not expected was the charnel stench. A lesser man should have run, or attempted to cover his face from this onslaught to the senses. As my entrails revolted, even I wished for a moment that I had taken the coward's road and left this place to its fate. But I was a Malfoy, and this was Malfoy ancestral demesnes. Instead, I turned my attention to the probable source seeping across the Carrara floor.

"Evil shall slay the wicked."

I nudged the body over to identify it, but the state of putrefaction was deplorable. After a few minutes examination I finally surmised it was Phillip Crabbe, once a near tenant in my house. His face, always plump, had bloated in death and was beginning to exude fluids, which would no doubt stain the marble. I left him to this final abuse of my hospitality and continued toward the drawing room. If Narcissa was going to give me the luxury of waiting for my arrival, I wanted to use that time to finish something else.

"Alohomora."

The flagstone rose and slipped across its neighbor. The steps below were steep and curved, but the musty smell emanating from them was actually a bit of a relief after the foyer. I lit my wand, descending warily in case of a trap. But the little room was abandoned. It had seen recent activity though, as the dust was disturbed from many of the devices. Moreover they seemed to have been lubricated with a liberal amount of blood. I studied the room, trying to discern exactly what had happened to Draco. He had yet to speak in direct terms of his experiences, preferring to bury them under the peculiar personality he had constructed since Lammas. As much as I detested this examination, I felt it was my duty to know what had been done to my son. I spent some time there, going over the instruments before retreating to the drawing room. It had been painful enough that I almost brought the chamber down behind me, but I caught myself. It was no longer my right. I would leave its fate to Draco. I left the stone upended for the Aurors, instead turning my attention to the crystal decanters on the sideboard. Poisoned or not, I needed the firewhisky.

Once I had steeled my nerves a bit, I considered my position. She would await my arrival either in the ballroom or in our private chambers dependent upon whether she considered this a public or a private confrontation. I hoped fervently for the former, as the personal betrayal was still too deep for me to directly contemplate. I doubted I was impassive enough to face her in the bed chambers. So I headed for the ballroom.

Fate was kind for that was where I found her, holding court over a tangled mass of what I surmised had once been Death Eaters. She had neither removed nor placed a preserving charm upon them. The result was horrific, even after Crabbe's caveat. My eyes watered as I made my entrance.

"Narcissa." I stalked toward the host's dais at the end of the room. "You really must learn when to end a party, darling."

She reclined upon the host's chair in a most obscene posture, one leg thrown carelessly across the arm of it, and I was sorely tempted to slap her from her spot. She had not only seized my position, but had tainted it with contempt. I could sense this was a lure, however, so I forced myself not to react.

"You never could do anything properly, Lucius. You couldn't even die appropriately."

"Evidently, neither could you. Whatever should become of such incompetents?"

"Whatever should become of such incompetence?" she rejoined. She lazily tapped her wand against her chin.

'Narcissa, I renounce you. Come what may we are no longer bonded."

"Renounce ME? I am not the one who hid in the folds of Dumbledore's robes!"

She was standing now.

I brandished my wand.

"And they've even given you a little wand. How adorable." Her voice became low, dangerous. "Have you checked it, Lucius? Made sure it was fit for more than spawning hedgehogs?"

"I think it will be suitable for my needs."

"Do they know what your needs are like, Lucius?"

"Do not confuse my needs with yours. I'm not the one who forsook my vows to lie with an abomination."

"Would you try to tell me you have not? That you never lay with a Muggle?"

"Did you never ask your sister?"

"Don't threaten me Lucius! You could never lay with another pureblood while we're bonded."

"And I would never lay with impure blood! Unlike you..."

"Enough!"

"No, Narcissa. I am through taking demands. Expelliarmus!"

She threw herself from my path, but it was too late. Her wand went skittering across the inlay. I came no closer to where she sprawled across the floor. She was still dangerous. To her credit, she did not try tears. Instead she threw her head back with the bearing of her kind.

"I renounce you! Lucius the great betrayer!"

"Who will once again rule in Dis. For by your hand that is what this house has descended to."

'No less than this House deserves!"

"Does anybody deserve what they are given?" I smirked, for the band had fallen from my left hand. I was free of her. "What is it you deserve, Narcissa? What should you reap for lying with your husband's master? For plotting my incarceration? For tormenting your flesh and blood? For attempting to slay your own child? Did you expect it would not matter since we would be dead soon?"

"It shouldn't have mattered because you do not matter, Judas. You refused to stand for our Lord when the Ministry came after you. You wouldn't face Azkaban for him the first time, so I made sure you did the second."

I laughed. "Narcissa, you amaze me. Such extraordinary arrogance. None of us matter. We'll see how well you fare when you yourself meet the fortress."

"No!"

"Oh, yes. Did you think I'd let you die easily for what you did? The dementors have returned to the island now that your paramour has fallen. I swore to kill you when I realized what you planned for our child. But I never promised I'd do it quickly."

"Lucius!" She began to inch toward her wand. I debated how close I would let her get, since I needed the wards to come down before I could act.

"Do you think you'll fare as well as your sister did? After all, she had his love to sustain her." I sent her wand a few feet further and she sagged. "Of course, you have something better, don't you?"

She bristled. I had her.

"You have his seed. Always the perfect breeding bitch, aren't you, darling?"

Finally, the Aurors managed to breach the gates. I was knocked from the dais in the shockwave, finding myself facing the parquet. Despite the inopportune timing I was thankful, for I had run out of trumps.

And she had regained her wand. "Diffindo!"

"Protego!" I directed at her, confounded for an instant by the lack of blood. I knew her spell had connected. The lead crystal daggers of a chandelier rained down upon me clearing up the mystery. I quickly began to extricate myself from the mess.

"Expelliarmus!"

My wand flew from my grasp. Heaving a chunk of plaster at her as a distraction, I yanked myself out of the shards. I attempted a wandless Accio, coming up instead with my cane. Grabbing it, I cursed silently that it was the wrong rowan bough. My concentration was slipping. Knowing I needed time, I lashed out at her.

"Did you lie with him even as I rotted in Azkaban? Even as your son bled beneath your feet?"

"Avada Kedavra!"

I should have been dead. But Narcissa had never used the Killing Curse before. Her focus was not there, and instead it shattered my cane. I suppose rowan really did grant protection from Dark powers. I fell to the ground as my support failed, but used the opportunity to roll under the divan.

"Narcissa! Bellatrix always told you to practice the Unforgivables before using them in combat. Now you really will join me in Azkaban!"

"No!"

"Oh yes, Narcissa. An Unforgivable is an Unforgivable and the Killing Curse is the worst of the lot. And with Aurors about, too. You know they're on the property, able to identify one wand from another. For shame."

The divan caught fire and I threw myself toward the credenza closest to my wand. It was still too far to reach, despite my desperate Accios.

"I hope you enjoy your maternity, Narcissa! Imagine. No midwife would dare come to that forsaken strand to help you deliver Voldemort's child. Not even a hag. You'll breech it on the straw in a fetid cell."

"Lucius!"

"Don't worry, darling. I will surely be there. Right where you put me. I look forward to hearing your screams echo through Azkaban." I laughed. "That creature in your womb will not last a week. The guards will have to draw lots for the honor!"

"NO!" Her shriek should have shattered the crystal, had any remained intact.

I dove for my wand, knowing even as I did so that it was in vain. I could hear her second use of the Killing Curse and expected the green light to engulf me even as my hand closed around the shaft. But I felt nothing. Curious, I rolled onto my back to face her.

She was crumpled on the floor.

The curse hadn't been for me at all. Some small part of me was impressed by her resolve. A Black to the last. I pulled myself to my feet and, shambling over, checked for signs of life with my boot. There was none. It was over.

I nudged her again.

"So help me, Narcissa, should you choose to become a ghost I will make your eternity Hell, Azkaban or no."

Then I staggered over to a fainting couch, and tumbling onto it, did precisely that.

"Oh, Merlin! Lucius!" Even in my exhaustion, I noticed the familiarity.

"Miss Vance?"

As she pulled the shawl from across her face, I could see she had the decency to blush.

"Mr. Malfoy. Are you quite all right?"
"I'm afraid I've made a complete disgrace of these fine robes." I blandly swept a hand across the torn and stained fabric, wondering who might now be enmeshed between the threads.

"I think you might be a bit dazed." She bent down to examine my face. She really was quite attractive for a bureaucrat.

Others followed her into the room, making no reaction as they stepped among the shambles of the room. Their training was impressive. Or perhaps they were still numb from the Battle of Salisbury.

Vance's demeanor changed immediately. "Mr. Malfoy. The Ministry regrets to inform you that your wife took her own life earlier this evening."

"She wasn't my wife." I raised my left hand.

"Excuse me?"

"We renounced. Tragic, really. I hope it doesn't aversely affect the child."

"Oh. Well, we must ask you to come along with us now for detainment, since you were obviously waylaid against your will during your original transfer."

"Was I?" I swore silently as I came back to my senses. The siege gates were useless to me now.

"Oh, most certainly. You must be addled from your ordeal. We have sworn testimony from two Aurors who were present at the attack where Death Eaters kidnapped you with an unauthorized Portkey. We have conjectured that you were imprisoned in this very house for the duration. And upon searching it, here you are."

"Indeed? Well, I must certainly be thankful then that the Ministry has come to my rescue. Even if it is the Transportation Department."

"Well, as you can imagine, the Department of Law Enforcement has their hands a bit full at present. We all must do our part in difficult times. I'm afraid I must now ask you for your wand and request you wait outside with me while the others search the house. Then we must seal it until we can process the... remains." She seemed almost to collapse as she waved her hand toward the carnage that littered the room.

I stood to support her before I realized it would be less than appropriate.

She dabbed the shawl at her eyes. "Will you come along easily?"

"I will come along quietly. I doubt it will be easy since Narcissa saw fit to destroy the beautiful walking stick I had."

"I see. Well, have you any others besides that black monstrosity in the foyer? I would prefer you use a cane without an empowered core."

She really did know my games.

"No. I suppose not. Still, it was worth the attempt, n'est-ce pas?"

She smiled slightly and shook her head, transfiguring a nearby candelabra for my use.

Others were fanning through the house as we left it. Through their head coverings, I thought I detected several Order members interspersed with the Aurors and wondered how that might get explained in the official records. However, given the mayhem through which they were sifting, they would probably have quite enough to write about without such extraneous details. We headed for a group of others standing perhaps a Quidditch pitch from the main entry. I noted with some trepidation that my son was among them.

"Draco. Why have you come here?"

"I needed to-"

"Where's Granger?" I cut him off in my haste. I could feel the air thickening. This wasn't just the end of Voldemort, but of the Malfoys as well.

"Inside with the others. I would be, too. But I couldn't. I couldn't face it." He tossed his head back, reminding me of his mother. "I'm sorry, Father. But I don't think I will ever set foot in that house again."

Without thinking, I stepped forward and drew him close. "Draco, you must go."

"No."

"Leave! Now! One of us must survive this."

"No."

"Have you learnt nothing this summer? Flee!"

"No." He was calmer than I had ever seen him. "I have learned a great deal this summer, Father. I will not run from here, and I will not run from her. I don't believe some two-hundred-year-old crank can know her heart. I can."

"She will bury us both."

He patted my shoulder as if I was the child. "No, She won't. I have faith."

I had no response to that. How could I? My son would not see reason and neither of us would see sunrise. I could not leave and he would not. So in some grand farce we waited patiently, like lambs in spring, until figures came flooding out from the portico. Most began taking positions to form a large circle around the building. One of the dark shapes broke free and came running toward us.

It was Hermione, of course, her face dark and stricken and her eyes flashing.

"So many bodies. She kept them there..." Then she turned more violent.

"You knew!" She slashed at Draco with her words.

"You knew all along that- that room was there! You grew up with it didn't you! You told Harry and Ron about it second year! You made jokes!"

"How could you live with yourself? That- it was -!" She trailed off, pacing before my son and tearing slightly at her curls.

Draco took it impassively. Only his eyes gave him away, widening in their sorrow.

"Those instruments! And the chains!" Her movements became even more violent as she jerked in a tight path before us, focused on my son.

Still he remained silent. I had every urge to step between them.

"AND! THE! BLOOD!" She screamed, clipping her words in her fury. She stopped before him, dreadfully still. "So much blood..." she hissed.

And here the axe would fall. I was tired of waiting for it. "Miss Granger!"

She jerked her head to me and I saw my own death in her eyes. Mesmerized, all the strength left my voice.

"It was Draco's blood," I whispered pitifully.

Her eyes changed, lightened but no less dangerous, resembling Potter on Lammas night. She pulled from me to my son and saw confirmation of my words.

"No!" she shouted, grabbing his shoulders, searching his eyes and she shook. I could feel the magic spiraling into her.

She whirled suddenly, from my innocent son to the house and it seemed all the power in the world released.

"NO!"

I grabbed Miss Vance and dove to the earth.

Hermione's scream echoed even as the shockwave hit. But I was stupefied and unable to respond. The rumbling went on around me as if the Hogwarts Express were rerouted through our garden.

"Ennervate."

I delicately attempted to extricate myself from Miss Vance.

She looked penitent. "Sorry. It's a trained reaction."

"I understand," I said in my most gracious air, trying to ignore the fact that we had been entangled on the ground. Instead, I turned my attention to the house.

She will raze it to the ground.

Nothing remained of the building.

Others were picking themselves up from where they had fallen in the blast. Hermione remained curled in amongst herself and my son half-crawled to her.

"Hermione?" He brushed her hair back from her face, then laughed once and pulled her toward him.

She was sobbing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whimpered before going back to her tears.

"I was just telling Father that I never wanted to set foot in the place again." He touched his forehead lightly to hers. "You must have felt that."

She looked up at him, ruddy and tear-stained. "You're laughing. I just..."

"Yeah. You just completed that stupid prophecy. You'll never be able to tell anyone that it's so much fluff now."

She sniffed. "I never said it was fluff. I said it was guesswork."

And my son had guessed correctly. I would have laughed had I not the weight of several generations of incorrect guesses upon me. Two hundred years of hexing the tide.

^"Their inward thought is that their houses shall continue for ever; they call their lands after their own names."

"Selah." To my dismay, my shame had been evident to Miss Vance. She quickly brushed a glove across my cheek, preserving my dignity as everyone on the grounds rushed to surround us. I slowly stood and made a rather absurd effort to brush down my robes.

"Hermione, dear? Are you all right? Were you hurt in the blast?"

Miss Vance laughed. "Arthur, she was the SOURCE."

He whipped his head quickly to the settling debris, then back to her.

"I'm OK, Mr. Weasley. I..." She started to cry again.

"She lost control of her power, Weasley. An accident, I suppose. Really, I don't know what they are teaching at Hogwarts these days. And to Muggle-borne, too. If they must take in children with no exposure to magic, then surely they should do a better job training them to control it."

"Malfoy!" Weasley colored.

Honestly, the man was too easy to be considered game. But I was more interested in ensuring Hermione's part in the events would be obfuscated by my slur. Two Ministry minions stepped between us and shuffled Weasley away from me, muttering encouragements to him. It was only then that I saw him smile at Hermione.

I shook my head.

I really should have played chess with that man.

But there was no time for more insight. With so many people in attendance, the masks had all been donned and everyone played their part. My son was led away with the others and I was taken to the Ministry.

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^"Evil shall slay the wicked." Psalm 34:21

^"Their inward thought is that their houses shall continue for ever; they call their lands after their own names." Psalm 39:11