How the Mighty Have Fallen

Author's Notes: This was written in response to a weekly drabble challenge at Mynuet's FIA (Fire and Ice Archive) Forums. There was an 800-word limit. The theme this week was: Tell me about that moment when you notice there is something more to a person than you'd thought. The point where you begin to think of someone in ways you'd never considered.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

She heard that he'd been found. She knew they were bringing him and that it would happen tonight.

It was the only reason she had dragged herself out of her warm bed and come to the office at this ungodly hour: To look on the face of the man who, once so proud, had been laid so low. This man she had once been foolish enough to fear, even respect, in a way. But could she say she had ever loved him? No. She'd never been that foolish.

She had always hated him intensely. They were only related by a mere technicality, a flimsy piece of paper issued by the Ministry. How she'd longed to spit in his haughty face for the things he had done - the way he had treated her mother ever since she could remember, the disdain he had for her father, and so much more. No, this man was nothing but a brute dressed in the finest clothing his stolen Galleons could buy.

While she waited, she stirred sugar into her coffee and sipped slowly from the disposable cup. Nobody spoke to her; they barely gave her a second glance. But no one was surprised she was there.

When the Aurors brought him in a short while later, she was slightly taken aback by his appearance. His robes were ripped in several places, his once-crisp white shirt underneath bearing the telltale burn marks and holes that indicated he had actually resisted. There was a stream of dried blood from the corner of his mouth down to his chin.

He'd put up more of a fight than she'd expected him to. She thought he might surrender immediately, not wanting to ruin his perfect face or muss his angelic hair. It was the only thing pure about him, other than his blood.

I see he suffered, she thought bitterly as she took one last swallow from her cup, crinkling it in her hand just for the satisfaction and then Vanishing it.

Good.

His skin beneath the torn clothing was as pale as ever - that is, where globs of blood hadn't congealed. His blond-white hair was filthy. But the wizard seemed not to notice or care. He wore his usual look, a mix of arrogance and disinterest, just as he had always done when she was very young.

I guess some things never change.

But if he had resisted arrest, why wasn't he fighting now? Where was the kicking, screaming, and snarling of obscenities? What about the usual derogatory remarks about half-bloods, mudbloods and how they were ruining the name 'wizard'? She'd heard it all before. But this time, it never came.

She studied his casual demeanor. He seemed to be completely unaware that he was a beaten man. He couldn't walk away from it all unscathed . . . not this time.

So why was he acting like he could?

The Aurors who had brought him were discussing where they were going to keep him for the time being. That was when he noticed her. His thin lips quivered into something of a sneer.

"Nymphadora," he said coolly.

"Welcome back, Uncle Lucius. I hear they've got your old cell waiting for you at Azkaban. And it's ice cold, just like you."

He wasn't the least bit ruffled by her attempt to mock him. "Charming," he said, his expression smug. "But alas, I'm not going there."

Her face fell at the news. He raised an eyebrow that she hadn't noticed was caked with blood. "You didn't hear, then? I'm here to cooperate: I turned myself in."

She was so flustered, she could barely speak. "B-but the cuts, the burn marks, they--"

"Were not given to me by the Aurors. They were a parting gift from my dear sister-in-law."

"Bellatrix," she breathed.

He snorted. "Well, certainly not your mother." She just scowled at him. How dare he mention her?

"Bella was trying to get me to tell her where your parents are hidden." Tonks looked at him blankly. "As if I would know," he scoffed.

When she finally found her voice, she croaked, "Do you?"

"No. But I assure you, I plan to give the Ministry so much information on the Death Eaters, so much monetary compensation to various victims' funds . . . I should receive a full pardon."

She felt like retching. A full pardon for Lucius Malfoy? Was Scrimgeour completely insane? His staff were obviously desperate, listening to anyone who would show up and promise them names, dates, lists of crimes - even if the 'informants' themselves had been involved!

"Surprised, Nymphadora?" he said, his lip curling. "Well, you of all people should know there's often more to a person than meets the eye."

~The End~

Notes: Although FIA is a Draco/Ginny archive, the drabbles do not have to feature D/G. They cannot have either in a relationship with someone else, but they can feature someone else entirely. Hope you liked it. Reviews appreciated! :D