Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 3

Once it was determined that Ginny and her baby were indeed in perfect health, they left Saint Mungo's. She was thrilled to be back home, where she was at the center of a flurry of attention. This gave her little time to brood over how Lucas's father was not here to watch him grow, not to mention how much Rhiannon, who dove into her role of big sister enthusiastically, was changing almost daily.

At first, she was a perfect little helper to her mother. She even put on a brave face, explaining to the baby that he couldn't see Daddy for a while, maybe never. But she soon grew tired of all that - it was dull. While she still helped with his care, she eventually took to bossing him around, even though he was just a few days old and had no idea what she meant. It reminded Ginny of her old school friend and housemate, whom she had heard one of her brothers had recently begun dating. Which one, she didn't know, nor did she care. She pushed all that aside; they were out of her life for good.

As was the custom in the Malfoy family, the grandparents threw an extravagant arrival party soon after the birth. Naturally, the Weasleys were most certainly not invited, nor were any of Ginny's old friends welcome. Her mother-in-law was too ill to come down to see the guests, so the young mother also filled the role of hostess, as if she were Lady of the manor. She pretended to be comfortable in the part, and she seemed to glow with confidence. But if people only knew how overwhelmingly nervous she really felt, they would have been quite surprised. Lucius seemed to understand; at one point during the evening, he put his arm around her and gave her a reassuring smile. Somehow, that simple gesture helped put her nerves at ease, and she relaxed.

Lavish presents for the newborn were brought by well-wishers and deposited in the front parlor. The two house-elves in that room were kept busy for a long while, opening and cataloguing the gifts. They annotated who each item was from so that the young Mrs. Malfoy could write and send appropriate 'thank-you' notes by the end of next week. The greatest burden would be on the owls; the Malfoy estate housed several of the most elegant and sturdy ones in all of Great Britain, so the task could be completed within a respectable amount of time.

The dinner was sumptuous and first-rate. As the night drew on, the 50-piece orchestra that had been hired as the evening's entertainment played several popular melodies. Following dinner, dancing and merrymaking ensued. The orchestra began taking requests, as the guests relaxed, feeling the influence of the various liquors their hosts had provided in abundance.

But not everyone chose to dance; some of the younger men, most of whom had been Draco's mates at school, were involved in an intense discussion about muggles and whether or not they could be trusted in this new age of 'understanding and enlightenment' being fostered by the new Minister of Magic. Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, and others were engaged in a lively debate about modern muggle technology versus good old-fashioned wizarding.

Ginny was in the midst of this group. She listened interestedly, having her own opinion about muggles and those who found them oddly fascinating, but contributed nothing to their debate. Other young witches were also present, including Millicent Flint. She stood next to her husband Marcus, who had become a leading authority on muggle criminal behavior and had much to say on the topic.

Mrs. Flint looked around the room and sighed. She and Pansy Parkinson had long since grown bored with the conversation; it was apparent that the women were not expected to join in. Instead, they were there to fill a more traditional role: to remain quiet, look good next to their significant others, and make other wizards wish they could sleep with them.

The two long-time girlfriends finally sauntered away from the group. Millicent swayed her hips seductively, taking more than one pair of eyes away from the conversation. She smirked to herself when the debate dwindled momentarily; the young wizards were obviously distracted by her, which pleased her immensely. When Marcus ruined her moment by bringing up some of the more recent threats to world peace caused by muggles, she mourned the loss of attention.

Millicent sipped her glass of wine as she wandered toward the baby's bassinet, Pansy in tow. The two started out admiring the tiny child, but the conversation soon turned ugly as it turned to gossip about him and his mother.

"I don't know, Pans; he sure seems . . . scrawny to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, even if she conceived the baby the day before he died - which wasn't exactly possible, since Draco was on the continent - she must have carried him for days, if not weeks, past a plausible due date. Yet he looks like he might be slightly . . . premature."

Alarmed at the implication, Pansy gasped, "You don't think--"

"Oh, no, of course not. He looks so much like Draco, it's uncanny, so surely he's the father. But I did hear . . . oh, no, it's too, too dreadful to even think it--" She raised a palm to her face.

"What?"

Millicent breathed, "I heard she actually went to see . ." She paused and bit her lip. "A muggle physician." Pansy gasped in reply. "Oh, yes. And they can, you know, fix certain - things."

"What sort of things?" Had Pansy been in a chair, she would have been on the edge of it, thirsty for more.

"Well," she whispered, "there is something called 'artificial insemination'. Say, for instance, Ginny anticipated or maybe foresaw an early death for him. They could have frozen some of his seed, injected it into her, and that way, even after he died - she could still have his child."

"Really?!" Pansy had never heard of such a thing. "And muggles say wizards are scary and untrustworthy!"

"It's quite true. But there's something even more distressing." Her voice fell to a low murmur. "Marcus tells me that muggles are dabbling into something even more sinister; they call it 'cloning'."

"What the devil is that?" It certainly sounded sinister, even if Pansy had no clue what it was. She was dying to find out.

Millicent made her best attempt to describe what she knew of the cloning process; unfortunately, not all of it was entirely correct. She told Pansy that muggles could take a woman who was already pregnant, replace part of her fertilized egg with part of another man - "In this case, Draco" - and the baby would be an exact copy of that person. Pansy almost choked on the punch she was swallowing, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

She hissed excitedly, one hand on her throat, "So you're saying - it's possible that this may not be Draco's child at all, but by 'replacing' the . . the . . . what did you call it?"

"The cell's nucleus," Millicent said confidently, feigning intelligence. "It contains the person's genetic code; what they look like, their height, hair and eye color. Everything."

"So even if it wasn't his - it would look like him anyway?" Her friend nodded; Pansy's mouth dropped open as she gasped.

Mrs. Flint squinted her eyes to add a dramatic effect. "Exactly like him. No matter who the father really was."

"That's - that's just frightening, Millie!" Setting her punch glass down steadily, she inhaled sharply and asked, "Do you think it really is Potter's, and she set out to make sure it didn't look like him? So people wouldn't treat him differently or shun him?"

"I don't know. But cloning sure scared the hell out of me when I heard that it was even possible." She patted her friend's hand, and then narrowing her eyes at her, she whispered, "Shhhh, here she comes now. Not a word to anyone. Promise?"

Pansy nodded quickly and picked up her glass in an attempt to appear as casual as possible. "Ginny, darling. He's an angel; a perfect, living legacy to his father. You must be so proud." She kissed the young mother on both cheeks. A ghost butler drifted by, holding out a large silver tray laden with glasses of champagne. Pansy set her punch glass down and took two replacements, both apparently for herself, causing Millicent to snort at her rudeness and inability to be nonchalant.

"Yes, Ginny, he's just the image of Draco. Congratulations - you're so lucky. His name is Lucas, right?"

"Lucas Draco Malfoy. That's right," Ginny nodded. She closed her eyes and leaned up against the wall. "Hate to break up the party, but if I don't go nurse the little guy soon, everyone will know that I need to. You know, Mill - sometimes it just sort of . . comes out whether you want it to or not, and usually, at the most inappropriate times."

Pansy didn't have a clue what Ginny was talking about, having had no children herself. But Mrs. Flint, mother of three boisterous children, knew exactly what her concern was. "Of course, Ginny. Take your time. I'll tell Lucius you've gone."

"Thank you, Millie. You're a love." And with that, Ginny took Lucas in her arms and carried him to the nearest private room to answer nature's call.

When her breasts were emptied and her baby's tummy was full, Ginny sighed to herself, holding little Lucas tenderly in her arms as she sang him to sleep. She cooed as she caressed his tender face, fingered his feather-soft hair of nearly pure white, and then laid him out on the sofa next to her. Watching him sleep, his purity and innocence touched her deep inside. She relaxed into a smile as she rebuttoned the front of her robes, adjusting them to prepare herself to return to the waiting guests.

She started to call a house-elf for assistance, but as the first syllable came out, she thought better of it. Just resting, enjoying her son, taking it all in, was so calming. In the darkened study, she thought that she too, could easily doze off. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she kept one hand on her baby.

Ginny was startled awake by a loud thump, followed by an obscene word. The unexpected noise caused Lucas to stir but not wake, while his mother nearly jumped out of her skin. "Who's there?" she whispered anxiously into the dim, raising her hand to her throat. Seeing a long, pale ponytail, she asked, "Lucius, is that you?"

After a brief silence, the man she called father-in-law responded quietly, "Yes, dear, it is. Just coming to check on you two. Are you and the little boy about finished, or am I interrupting?"

She sighed her relief, saying, "No, we're done." She called for the house-elf, "Shilla!" then picked up the resting child to pass to her for assistance. Shilla knew exactly what was expected, and she left to lay the little one down for the evening.

Then the young witch turned to Lucius and said appreciatively, "Thanks for giving us some privacy."

"Not at all," he replied. "It's the least I can do."

In a complete change of subject, Ginny inquired, "How's Cissy? Is she feeling any better?"

He winced slightly, confessing, "No, I'm afraid not. Her condition seems to worsen as time goes on. The Healers are utterly baffled, especially by the most recent development."

"Development? What development?"

Sighing heavily, he sank into a nearby chair and hung his head. "They fear that her cold may be turning into full-blown pneumonia." Looking at her with tears in his piercingly blue eyes, he whispered, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost her, Ginevra. She's all I have in the world."

Then two consecutive events occurred that, a mere five years ago, she would have deemed as absolute miracles: Lucius Malfoy cried, and Ginny felt pity for him.

"She isn't - she isn't going to leave us," Ginny insisted encouragingly. She sniffed as her tears too threatened to spill onto her face and ruin her perfectly-done makeup.

Hiding his face in his hands, he felt a sudden sense of contrition, a need to make amends with this girl, the woman who had borne him his only living heirs. "Ginevera - I . . I must - apologize," he rasped, "to you. I have been so ashamed for so long, I can't say how wrong I was."

"What do you mean, Lucius? You have nothing to apologize for. I told you when you returned home that everything had been forgiven. I forgave you for being there when my brother Percy died. I know it wasn't your fault; it was an accident. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, as was he. I accept that." She said stoically, "And I've moved on. You should, too."

But that did not appease him or ease his quiet sobbing. "No, this transgression is older than that - much, much older. Please, let me have my say. I need this . . . need this to cleanse myself. Just--" he gasped again, "Listen. Please."

Intrigued, she looked at him curiously. "All right," she said with a nod. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, he began his confessional. "When you were first going to Hogwarts, I'm sure you recall our unfortunate meeting in Flourish and Blotts. The day when you and my son first exchanged . . words. And I foolishly dropped something in your cauldron, something I knew to be - incredibly dangerous. Yet I did it. And I--"

He paused to collect himself but couldn't seem to stop his tears from falling. If he were to go on, Ginny felt he would soon be blubbering incoherently. She reached up and stroked his cheek tenderly then said, "It's all right, Lucius. I know you didn't mean to hurt me specifically, that I was not your target - you were only doing what you felt you had to. And I know - his power to control is immense. You did what you misguidedly believed was the . . the solution to all the problems in the Wizarding World. And looking back on all the troubles muggles and their kind have caused the world . . "

She hesitated while gathering her thoughts. "I'm not so sure that Salazar Slytherin wasn't altogether wrong about muggles - in some very small way. Although I do believe adamantly that what you did, and what it enabled Tom Riddle to do to a small, defenseless girl, was a very wrong way to go about it," she explained.

She took in the disheveled, once powerful man before her and smiled tenderly. "Lucius, I've forgiven you completely. I will never lord this over you, nor remind you of it. It truly is forgotten. All that remains is for you to forgive yourself."

His mind raced; who was this young woman before him? This was no woman - clearly, she was either an angel or a goddess. Trying to contain his joy at what he was hearing, he kissed her hand with gentility. "Ginevra, you have a heart of pure gold. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say those words." He leaned in carefully and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek, prudently keeping his distance.

She patted him on the shoulder then gently reminded him, "We'd best go out and tend to our guests. We wouldn't want to make them think simply awful things about us - or worse, cause any idle gossip, now would we?" She wiggled her eyebrows and gave him the sexiest smirk he had ever seen. Then she was gone.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Lucius closed his eyes to remember her softness then licked his lips to capture the taste her skin had left on them. The rest of his body, which had imagined far beyond the innocent kiss he had placed on her youthful face, was on fire as he literally ached for her.

"No, my dear. We musn't be the cause of idle hearsay, or become the victims of any spiteful gossipers," he murmured softly into the silence. "Far be it from me to disappoint them, when simply indulging them would be so much more pleasurable."

Securing the door with a Locking Charm, he reached to touch himself. Then he hissed with a depraved leer, "No, gossip shouldn't be a problem - considering it won't be idle 'hearsay' for very long."