Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 1

"Cissy? Lucius? Are you at home?" Ginny walked into the enormous entryway of Malfoy Manor as casually as she had done for the past six years. Large with child, she waddled through the front part of the house, searching for its occupants or perhaps a servant. Upon reaching the formal dining room, she was greeted enthusiastically by an eager house-elf, who appeared silently from out of nowhere, as they were prone to do.

"Oh! Toddy, you surprised me!" Ginny said, lifting one hand on her heart.

"Good day, young Mrs. Malfoy! How is Missus?"

"I'm very well. And you?"

"Toddy is well, too," he responded and added courteously, "thank you for inquiring about Toddy's health. Is Missus looking for the master or the mistress?"

"Cissy -- I mean Mrs. Malfoy," she quickly corrected herself as she removed her cloak and handed it to Toddy. "Is she back from her trip to Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, ma'am. Both the master and the mistress are at home. They are in the east parlor, having their afternoon tea." Ginny suppressed a groan as she thought, That's on the other side of the bloody house! She couldn't keep from wincing slightly at the thought of such a long walk on her swollen, tired feet. The elf offered politely, "Does young Mrs. Malfoy need Toddy's help?"

She knew she would get there eventually; it was just that with her baby's arrival a few weeks away, getting around was becoming somewhat of a strain. As her mother had done during each of her seven pregnancies, Ginny had gotten uncomfortably large when she was expecting her first child, and her second time around was no exception. Yet she refused the help, saying, "No, thank you, Toddy, I'm sure I can manage." He left her to it, vanishing with a snap of his fingers.

Moving through the corridors and huge rooms at a slow but steady pace, she marveled once more at the sheer size and beauty of the Malfoy palatial estate. Marble from Rome, opulent chandeliers, exquisite, handmade Arabian tapestries, and furniture that was woefully expensive but never gaudy filled their family home. Ginny wondered how Draco must have felt as a child here, knowing that he could touch very little of what was around him. She had grown up in the rather austere surroundings of the Burrow, where everyone had had to share everything and not one knut was wasted. She tried to picture Draco as a young boy at her family home and nearly laughed aloud at such a hysterical idea.

Thinking about him so unguardedly, without preparing herself for it, a pang of sadness mingled with a hint of guilt cut through to her core. Its was especially sharp this time, considering what she had learned less than an hour ago. She shuddered involuntarily. His untimely death still tormented her; the worst part was that she felt partially responsible for it. It seemed that the afternoon of March 11th and the hours that followed would forever haunt her.

She was drawn out of her anguished thoughts by a willowy, handsome woman moving up the hallway. Ginny's face lit up in a warm smile at the sight of her, and Narcissa Malfoy greeted her pleasantly, "There you are, my dear. Toddy said you were back." She grasped her daughter-in-law's hands, kissed her on both cheeks, and then stepped back to get a look at her. With a faint curve of her lips, she admired, "You're looking so well, my dear. What did the doctor say? Were the tests successful?"

Perhaps against Narcissa's better judgment, she had approved of Ginny's going to a muggle physician - just this once - but for a very good reason. It was to validate the parentage of the child growing in her womb. The mediwizard profession did have its own way to check this, but its reliability was dodgy at best. The test could be foiled by a skilled patient or even botched by a well-meaning yet incompetent practitioner.

Ginny relaxed as she replied, "It's definitely a Malfoy. And this time, it's a boy, so now, we'll - I'll have one of each."

Quiet tears of release and joy flowed from Narcissa's striking blue eyes as she hugged her son's widow. "That's wonderful news, darling. You must be so relieved." They stood close together for several moments, elated at their good fortune that Ginny was definitely not carrying the child of Harry Potter - the seditious bastard who had raped her seven months before. And because of his cruel actions against Ginny, her own husband was dead, cut down in the prime of life by the so-called 'hero'.

If Draco's passing had been difficult for his mother, it had been simply horrible for his wife. She still cried herself to sleep now and again. She couldn't begin to think of moving on . . . of maybe finding a new man to love and to help raise her children. She was still in love with Draco, and even if he were only a memory now, she missed him dreadfully. At least now she would have his son to help her remember him and to carry on the family name in his absence.

Their young daughter, Rhiannon, seemed to be enjoying her life at the manor, and her grandparents lavished her with attention and presents. A few months shy of five years old, she did not fully understand where Daddy was. She often asked why he was gone away from her for so long, when would he return to her, and whether he would bring her a perfectly splendid present, like a pony. She also wanted to know why she couldn't go see her cousins at Uncle George and Aunt Katie's house.

But Ginny wouldn't hear of it; she had cut herself off from most of her family when she said to them that she was glad - delirious, actually - that Harry was dead. Her callous attitude had ripped through the heart of her relationships with Ron, Hermione, and many of her brothers. Ron had gone so far as to call her a heartless bitch, completely brainwashed by that smarmy ferret she had so foolishly married. The two siblings hadn't spoken to one another since.

But she didn't care. She was angry. She could not forgive Harry his sins, nor would she listen to any who dared to support him - those who said she was obviously mistaken, that Harry would never do such a thing. They claimed that he must have been under Imperius himself, or perhaps Ginny was somehow deluded.

And she never looked back. She had a new family; the Malfoys were her family now. They welcomed her, and they loved her. They were kind to her. She and her daughter were very happy living there.

Narcissa released her and swiped at her own tears. Still standing close to one another, Ginny asked with concern, "Cissy, are you all right?"

She replied as indifferently as possible, "Of course, dear. Why do you ask?"

Ginny took on her Molly Weasley persona, albeit rather tentatively. It didn't seem right to her, scolding her own mother-in-law, but she felt compelled to say something. "You just seem like - well, as if you may have lost some weight." Laying her hands on the woman's narrow shoulders, she remarked, "You feel so very thin. You must take care of yourself. Have you been eating, and walking the grounds? You can't crawl in your shell and die; you have to eat, and being active is--"

She paused briefly then asked her bluntly, "Mother, have you been brooding again?"

Narcissa's eyes drew wide as her lips parted. She wept quietly, nodding guiltily, as if to say 'Yes' and 'I'm sorry' without words.

Ginny addressed her in an even more Molly-like tone, saying in a stern yet quiet voice, "Your husband is back, Narcissa. He's reformed. He needs you." Taking the older woman's slightly emaciated face in her swollen fingers, she looked her directly in the eye and commanded, "And you must be here for him." Then she whispered solemnly, "All men need their wives. Treasure him. What I wouldn't give if mine were to walk through that door, right now, and hold me once more."

Narcissa swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded her head rapidly; she knew her daughter-in-law was right. Many times, the elder Mrs. Malfoy had said things like, 'Wise beyond her years, that girl,' and, 'She's been through a lot that many of us will never know.'

Her attempt to respond to Ginny's mild scolding was interrupted by a silky male voice which flattered, "Ginevra, how radiant you look. You're positively glowing, my dear." Lucius Malfoy put his arm around her shoulder with familiarity and patted her russet-colored hair. "So how did things go with the muggle?" he inquired, wearing a rather tight smile. "Was he able to answer your questions satisfactorily?"

"Oh, yes, Lucius. She did." At his raised eyebrow, she clarified, "Dr. Winterbourne is a woman. Thank you for asking me and for trusting her opinion. I was just telling your wife the baby is definitely a Malfoy and a boy. So it looks like Rhiannon will have a little brother quite soon. An early Christmas present for her."

Lucius beamed, "That's wonderful news, Ginny. This calls for a toast. Toddy! Champagne for everyone!" The faithful little servant arrived moments later, laden with a sterling wine cooler and a fine silver tray with three fluted crystal glasses. In the cooler was a bottle of chilled French champagne, immersed up to its slender neck in ice. Toddy popped the cork with a snap of his fingers, lifted the bottle gingerly, and began pouring their drinks.

"Oh, none for me, Lucius, thank you," Ginny refused politely. "Dr. Winterbourne says alcohol is very bad for an unborn child."

Lucius relented, saying, "If you insist. Just two glasses, Toddy; one for myself and one for my darling wife." The house-elf bowed his head respectfully. He finished filling the first glass, then the other. The third was magically replaced with a tall, refreshing glass of lemonade, which Toddy floated deftly over to Ginny. She nodded her thanks, and with a smile and slight dip of his head, the servant vanished.

"This is a great day for the Malfoys," Lucius continued with a satisfied smile. "We shall have an heir."

Ginny interjected, "Another heir, you mean. We still have Rhiannon."

Narcissa, whose emotions were quite in check by now, spoke encouragingly. "Of course we have, love. What Lucius meant was that now Draco has fathered a son, there will be someone to carry on the family name. Even though he himself will not be--"

She got very quiet, not wishing to upset Ginny. But right now, the young woman was overjoyed; she was having Draco's son, and nothing could knock her off her cloud.

Raising his glass, Lucius announced proudly, "To the continuation of the Malfoy line." He took a sip then said, "Amazing that muggles have invented such a - what did you call it? Medicative procedure?" He guided the ladies toward the nearest room where they could sit down, which happened to be his private library.

"Medical procedure," Ginny corrected. "Yes, their technology has come a long way. You should know that, Lucius. You're the one who's always whinging that it's 'overrunning the world'," she mocked.

Narcissa chucked softly and lowered her glass as she sat down gracefully. She interrupted their discussion with an honest question. "Exactly how does this procedure work?"

"I don't fully understand it myself," Ginny admitted, sinking into her favorite seat in the room, a plush, deep burgundy chaise lounge. She leaned back and raised her feet to relax, all the while holding her glass carefully to ensure that its contents did not spill onto the magnificent Oriental rug that graced the center of the room. She took another drink then went on. "The doctor's office had asked me if I could bring in a sample of hair - either Harry's or Draco's would do. And the test proved beyond a doubt that it's not Harry's."

Narcissa offered her two sickels, noting, "Incredible that they could tell so much from such a little thing! I wonder," she mused curiously, "does it work something like Polyjuice Potion?"

Ginny pondered, "It might. It had something to do with . . 'genetics', the nurse called it. But what was more incredible was that I even had the hair sample. I had nearly forgotten about it; I stole it from him back when I was bonkers over him at school." She paused briefly before explaining, "One year, Harry stayed with us for a few days during the summer hols and was sleeping in Ron's room. I snuck in there early one morning and cut off a lock of his hair - you know, as sort of a keepsake." She stopped again and looked down at her hands. Swirling the lemonade around in her half-full glass to mix up the pulp, she shrugged and admitted with a sheepish grin, "Shows how bad my schoolgirl crush really was.

"Anyway, when I heard how this medical procedure worked, I was so glad that I had taken it and that I'd never thrown it out. After speaking with Dr. Winterbourne's nurse last week, I dug around in my old Hogwarts stuff and found my wandbox. It was brimming with treasures, articles I had sworn I would never discard: photos of various cute boys, the ones I had wished were mine - all of them waving and smiling, just for me; memories from school dances . . fancy invitations, pressed corsages made of deep red roses, greenery, and baby's breath, now faded and brittle--" She smiled wistfully, summarizing, "All the silly things a young girl cherishes."

Both of them were still eyeing her intently, so she continued. "After I graduated, Draco and I started to get pretty serious; thinking of marriage, children, and all that. My first thought was to get rid of my old school things - you know, put it all behind me. I always meant to go through it, and you know, just pitch the lot. But I guess it came in rather handy today." Laughing softly to herself, she added, "So this time, my procrastination proved to be the key to solving a mystery. And I couldn't be happier."

Her in-laws nodded; even if they didn't really understand how this 'test' had proven anything, they were glad that she was reassured. And if she was, then they were, too.

Lucius finished off his champagne and sighed deeply. He set his glass down, then rising to his feet, he announced, "My dears, I must take my leave now. I have plans for this evening." At Narcissa's disappointed glance, he reminded her, "I promised I would take a look at that pony over in Poole. You know, the gray one we've been thinking of getting - for Rhiannon's birthday." He whispered the last few words just in case the little imp was prowling about the library, eavesdropping. "It's gorgeous, Ginny. Its coat is the same color as her eyes."

"Now, Lucius, you don't have to do that," Ginny stated plainly, standing up to face him. "She doesn't need a pony, or any animal, for that matter. She's much too young."

"Nonsense! Can't I spoil my only granddaughter?" he asked teasingly. "Just a little?" The girl's mother smirked at him; assuming that all was forgiven, he changed the subject. "I will probably end up staying for dinner, so please don't wait up for me." Then Lucius drew his wife close, kissed her hand tenderly, and murmured something into her ear, something private which made her laugh gently.

Ginny turned away, focusing on what remained of her lemonade: mostly ice, a thin slice of citrus, and pulp. She glanced up and noticed that a fresh glass had very recently appeared on a coaster on the marble-top desk next to her, a sliver of lemon floating to the top. Picking up the glass, she marveled at Toddy's intuition; he was a very clever elf. It was almost as if the little fellow could read her mind.

She looked around again and saw that Lucius had gone. With a slightly misty look in her eyes, Narcissa walked over to the chaise lounge and took Ginny's hand, helping her to her feet. "Now," she said breathily, "to name your child."

They sauntered over to the bookshelves, the older woman surveying them carefully. Ginny wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking for, but Narcissa soon placed a long finger on the first of three large, ruby-spined volumes, a golden "M" emblazoned on each of them. Lifting from its resting place, she blew the dust off of the Malfoy crest that graced the outer cover. She asked excitedly, "Let's take a look, shall we? I'm certain one of these volumes has the name of every Malfoy ever born. And we're going to find the perfect one for your little bundle of joy."