Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Joy!

Rapture!

New -

Chapter!

Thank you, Fyrechild, for the beta read, and to my readers and reviewers. You make this all the more enjoyable.

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 5

"Goodbye, Verla. And thank you so much for coming. Say hello to Karl for me."

"It was the least I could do, Lucius. After all, Narcissa was always such a dear friend, ever since Hogwarts. She will be missed," the sickly pale witch said as they kissed one another on each cheek. Choking back a sob, she walked out into the misty April afternoon.

Exhaling heavily, the owner of Malfoy Manor shut the front door firmly as the last guest finally left. The large, impenetrable door had sheltered and protected the occupants within for generations immemorial. Now it kept them safe from the prying eyes, gaping mouths, and wagging tongues of the rest of the world, allowing the family to grieve its loss in private.

Still, the outside world mourned with the Malfoys as the ancient pureblood family buried yet another of its beloved members far before her time. It was tragic, as they had lost so much already. Yet people would gossip, and everyone wanted to know: Why had Narcissa Malfoy been taken from them so young? How would Lucius cope? Would he eventually remarry, have another family?

Bachelorettes and spinsters alike - not to mention, a few of their mothers - had vague whisperings.

'He's not that old, you know.'

'Fairly easy on the eyes, and not a bad catch.'

'He's quite rich; one could do far worse.'

Wizards and witches alike couldn't refrain from prattling on about the poor young grandchildren or their mother, Draco's widow. The girl who was devoted to Cissy, and she seemed horribly distraught at the funeral. They observed how was lucky she was to have her father-in-law at her side and her children to help ease her sorrow.

In the days and weeks that followed Cissy's funeral, Ginny busied herself with planning the most extravagant wedding she could for her old school friends, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Before she knew it, the big day was just six months away, which gave them precious little time to prepare.

And there was still so much to do! The entire wedding party needed custom-fit robes made from specialty fabrics. There was the ordering of the flowers, which grew only in Singapore and had to be planted early in the summer months in order to be ready for a fall wedding - not to mention the hand-printing of over 500 invitations, done exclusively, exquisitely, and quite expensively, by Caligula Calligraphy. Ginny found the hustle-bustle to be an excellent way to occupy her mind.

On a warm, uncommonly windy Saturday in the middle of May, she and Neville's bride were seated together before a large glass table, sipping tea as they analyzed a number of fabric swatches in a variety of colors and hues.

"No, Luna - that will never do," she gently chided her friend.

"But I like seafoam green. It's so soothing, and it would make the most lovely bridesmaid robes."

"Perhaps, but look at the weight of this material. It's far too heavy for anything so elegant. The robes simply wouldn't lie right," she insisted. "I'm sorry, but it's just not going to work."

Dejected but not dissuaded, Luna waved yet another swatch in front of Ginny's expert eye, hoping it would meet with her approval. "How about this periwinkle? It's pretty, isn't it?"

Her friend sighed and said with smile, "Of course, it is. It's lovely. However, I happen to look like crap in both periwinkle and seafoam green."

Luna shrugged. She was never into fashion, colors, or fabric, and she was not nearly as knowledgeable in these areas as Ginny was. The redhead spoke authoritatively, and when she did, Molly's common sense approach to making clothes and Draco's sense of style were both patently obvious. The bride trusted her friend's judgment completely.

Still, she pressed on. Her large eyes glowed as they surveyed the seemingly endless array of fabric samples Madam Malkin's Robe Shop had sent over for their perusal.

"Ginny," she asked thoughtfully, as if it had just occurred to her, "What color does look best on you? Because I want you to look smashing. I mean, a lot of future couples meet at weddings, don't they? Sort of puts them in the right spirit . . if you take my meaning. And if you look radiant - then what's to stop a nice-looking young wizard from taking notice of you?"

Ginny stared back at her, her mouth slightly agape. Luna smiled serenely as she took her friend's hand and squeezed it. "Ginny, I think it's time that . . you moved on. I know it's hard, but my father never did - and he regrets it now."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She blinked owlishly at the girl who held her hand. Luna pleaded silently with her eyes that Ginny consider her suggestion.

"Coral. Deep coral."

"What?" Luna asked her.

"That's my best color - a deep coral. Everyone thinks so, even Draco. He said the right shade of it brings out these little flecks of gold in my eyes, and my skin just glows." Staring blankly into her tea cup, she thought of her own wedding and the events that followed in their room in Venice . . .

*^*^*^*

"My beautiful fire goddess," her new husband sighed as he kissed her tenderly. "That looks so gorgeous on you. But it would look even better on the floor . . "

More kisses, a none-too-gentle love bite that stirred her blood, his tongue trailing down to her cleavage, his thumbs rubbing her nipples till they became as erect as he was.

"Silly to spend so much on a beautiful garment that's practically see-through anyway, only to have it stay on for such a short a time." Then he sunk his face in between her breasts, lavishing the parts he could get to with kisses. He murmured, "You're perfect, and I love you so much."

"I love you, too, honey," she whispered as she lovingly stroked the top of his head.

Soon, his fingers were busy trying to untie the dainty ribbons at the tops of her shoulder that held the deep coral camisole in place. The anticipation, as well as her thong knickers, was having a rather obvious effect on him, one he would never wish to hide from her again. Frustrated at not being able to undo the ribbons fast enough, he sat up and reached for his wand to loosen them.

When he looked up, he saw out of the corner of his eye the very items that had exasperated him. They lay in a loose heap on the floor, Ginny twirling her own wand and shrugging her shoulders.

"Guess you're not the only one who's anxious." She winked at him and slowly licked her lips.

Between several wet, languid kisses, he growled, "Mmmm, you hot little thing, you. And you're mine, all mine. My darling, my wife."

*^*^*^*

And so began seven glorious days and nights of lovemaking, experimenting, touching, tasting, giving and receiving pleasure the likes of which she had never known, and he had only guessed at. Not that he was wholly without experience . . but being married - becoming one - brought a deeper level of connection, a new intensity to their sex life, and they fell even more madly in love with each other.

Thinking back on that spectacular week, she still shuddered. The pleasure he had learned to give to her, their cries of release, the expressions of joy they'd both had on their innocent, young faces for the majority of those seven days, were incredible. The couple barely got out of bed; when they remembered to eat, they always ordered room service. It was all so romantic that, in retrospect, it almost seemed unreal.

It was no wonder that Ginny had been unable to move forward, when what they'd had had been so irreplaceable . . .

"Ginny?" Luna interrupted her thoughts, asking with concern, "Are you - all right?"

"Of course," she laughed nervously as she swiped a tear away from her eye, focusing her gaze on the sea of fabric swatches that lay on the table before her.

The bride fretted, "Your being so involved in planning my wedding isn't such a good idea, is it?"

Ginny gasped. "Oh, no - I'm fine. This has nothing to do with that!"

"I mean, it's just been so hard on you. I know our asking for your help couldn't have come at a worse time, what with your mother-in-law being so ill and then passing, and if you wanted to back out now, I wouldn't blame you."

As she swiped a sliver of a tear from her eye, Ginny insisted, "No, really, I'm quite enjoying myself. I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, it's just that--"

Looking like she didn't believe a word of what her friend had just said, Luna told her, "But if you don't feel up to this, I completely understand."

Her friend laughed softly then protested, "Nonsense, I want to do this. I thought - rather, I hoped - it would be therapeutic. You know, sort of . . healing, in a way."

"But is it?" Luna asked doubtfully.

Ginny bit her lip and furrowed her brow as she decided. "You know, in an odd way, it - it rather is." Studying the fabrics once more, she asked Luna, "Did you find a shade you like?"

"Yes. This one's nice," Luna replied with a wistful smile, "and it will look so perfect in the photos next to my ivory-colored wedding dress."

Holding the swatch in her hand, the redhead passed her judgment. "Hmmm . . yes, smooth, silky texture, and a nice weight. This will do very well." Luna beamed.

Anxious to move on to the rest of the plans, Ginny annotated which fabrics they had chosen and the patterns for the robes. She did a Banishing charm to clear the table then announced, "Now, let's choose some invitations. Accio, invitation samples book!"

The massive book floated slowly toward them. When it came within her reach, she grabbed onto it and gently laid it on the glass table before them. The book turned page after page of itself, offering them eight new samples every time. When either of the witches found one they liked, one of them would touch her wand to the page, and it would be added to a growing list of 'possibles'. They continued in silence for several moments.

Suddenly, Luna gave her friend a shy smile and whispered, "Ginny, can you keep a secret?"

"Sure. What is it?" she asked casually as she marked yet another of the gorgeous invitations available from Caligula's extensive library.

"Neville and I are going to have a baby," she hissed.

"Really?" her friend breathed, mildly shocked. "When - when did you find this out? And when's the happy event - before or after the wedding?"

Rather offended at the implication, Luna scoffed, "Well, after, of course. What do you take me for, anyway?"

Ginny, confused and mildly annoyed, wrinkled her nose then asked her an important question. "And when will you be having this baby?"

"At the Spring Equinox in 2008. March 21st. And it's going to be a girl," she added assuredly.

"Just how would you know all that? Or do you plan on gestating for the next twenty-some months? You could probably give birth to a giant by then!"

Luna tutted, "I'm not pregnant yet, silly! I'm still a - a virgin." When Ginny's eyes widened slightly, she whispered, "Neville's very old-fashioned like that; he wants both of us to remain pure, until that night."

Wondering how could Luna predict - if that's what she was implying - an event that was to happen two years away from now, she asked, "And you know this . . how?"

"Easy. I've done all the important research and tests. My birthday is on August 1st, which is Lugnasadh. Everyone knows that's the day the god and goddess make love; she becomes pregnant and gives birth on Ostara, the Spring Equinox. And since women on my mother's side of the family always bear a daughter first--"

"Luna, you can't be serious. Those are just myths! No one believes those anymore."

"They worked for my mother," the girl insisted, never blushing or flinching. "And my grandmother. They've always followed the Pagan calendar - it never fails. I can't believe you doubt it, Ginny. Weren't both of your children born at Yuletide?"

"Yes, but . . . what if you get pregnant before then? You know - by accident?"

"I won't. And there are ways to prevent that."

Ginny looked at her quirky old friend and sighed. Patting her on the hand, she said, "Well, then I'm happy for the both of you. You'll make splendid parents."

*^*^*^*

Brian Gilpin had just had a lengthy, in-depth bedside chat with one of his elderly patients. The man always exhausted him, and he tended to be especially vocal on Fridays, as he knew he wouldn't see him for at least two days. The Healer exhaled heavily. It was 4:45 in the evening, and he was nearly finished with his rounds. Still, he smiled a tired smile to himself; the last weekend in May always meant glorious weather, perfect for his hard-earned weekend off.

Just two more patients to go, he sighed. He turned to move along to the next one when he noticed someone in the distance. It was a man with very distinguishable, very long, pale blond hair. He squinted his eyes to be sure then called out, his voice echoing down the cold, sterile corridor, "Hello, Mr. Malfoy? Is that you?"

Lucius turned his head slowly to see who was speaking to him. A slight smirk graced his thin lips as he caught sight of Brian Gilpin. Ah, yes. The Healer in charge of Narcissa's case.

Perfect.

It had been nearly two months since his late wife's funeral, and the men had not seen one another since. The widower narrowed his silver-grey eyes as the younger man approached him.

"Good afternoon, sir. What brings you so far from home on such a lovely spring afternoon?"

Lucius sneered slightly and drawled, "Hello, Gilpin. I'm here to see about retrieving my late wife's files."

The Healer looked at him blankly, his mouth hanging open slightly as if he wasn't sure he'd heard him right. "Her - her files, sir?"

"Yes. Well, copies of them, of course," the blond clarified. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "That isn't a problem, is it? I mean, she was my wife, after all."

The younger man appeared to be hesitant. He cleared his throat then said, "Well, er - no, sir. Not at all. It's just that we don't often get such requests. And . . copying them will - take some time, Mr. Malfoy."

"Surely, you must have an Assistant Healer or an intern who would know a spell that would do the trick?"

He blushed a little at his error, as that thought had not crossed his mind, and offered, "Let me check. My office is this way."

The two wizards began walking down the hallway. They passed many doors; a few of them were slightly ajar, but many more were closed tight, shielding the residents within and hiding their various maladies and injuries from gawking onlookers. Eventually, they approached a door that was, oddly enough, standing wide open.

Lucius slowed his pace as the vaguely familiar patient inside caught his eye. He stopped and stared then quickly looked away, walking on by before the patient could return his gaze. When he slipped past the room, the door flew shut with a flourish. Its hollow slam! startled Lucius back to the full awareness of walking with Gilpin, who was chattering on nervously.

He must be uncomfortable with silence. It's an annoying habit, but it often proves useful.

They eventually rounded a corner and descended a set of stairs. As they did, the younger man continued to spout mindless drivel; Lucius speculated that he felt guilty about having lost his wife. He groaned internally, yet managed to feign minimal politeness and turned his head to indicate a modicum of interest in what he was saying.

At times, the Healer seemed to bear a striking resemblance to Percy Weasley - another terminal bore and a stickler for the rules. The most annoying of Arthur's sons, the boy had worked directly under Barty Crouch and then later, for Fudge himself. Important positions for one so young and inexperienced, but he could never fully grasp the bigger picture. No, Percy Weasley could never see past the end of his nose; doing so would have been difficult, seeing how it always wedged so firmly up his boss's arse.

And what did all that arse-kissing do for him anyway? Lucius grumbled silently. He was never willing to overlook minor infractions or violations, always going exactly by the book . . .

Then he sealed his fate by foolishly tagging along with those Aurors when they raided the LeStrange home - where I just happened to be having dinner with my in-laws. Really, was it my fault he jumped directly in front of Rudolphos's wand when he aimed the killing curse at that pompous Mudblood Auror, Edmund Goodspeak?

Well, that Banishing Spell may have had something to do with it - flinging him in front of Bella's husband like that. Most unfortunate. Percy always was a very slight man, never weighing more than 11 stones, even in his mid-twenties.

Gilpin suddenly stopped outside an office that had his name and title painted on the frosted glass. Indicating the door, he announced with a smile, "Here we are."

They entered and approached his receptionist's desk. "Nadine Boorman" her brass nameplate read in a delicate script. The Healer requested that she make a copy of Mrs. Malfoy's file. The young lady, a dowdy-looking witch with horn-rimmed glasses, short brunette hair, and a mild acne problem, nodded quickly, seeing to the task right away. Lucius sensed from her reaction that she had a crush on her boss, although the object of her desire was oblivious to the fact.

The two men entered Gilpin's private office. Before Lucius could even sit down, the younger man said to him expectantly, "Well, what do you think?"

"About what?"

He stammered, "Well, sir - as I was saying in the stairwell - I was . . wondering if I might have a word with you about . . her."

Confused, Lucius asked with mild sarcasm, "Who? Your receptionist, the lovely Miss Boorman?"

With a soft laugh, he corrected, "No, sir. Your daughter-in-law."

"Ginny? Whatever for?" he said, he tone icy.

"Well, sir, it's - it's . . well, I rather fancy her. She's quite charming, and I'd like to see if you knew whether she might be free to take dinner with me one evening this week?" When his guest only glared at him, he said nervously, "I mean no disrespect to your late son. But d-do you know if Ginny is currently seeing anyone?"

"No, not that I'm aware of," he replied guardedly. "As far as dinner this week - I'm afraid that's not possible. She's out of town. She took her daughter to the beach for a few days of much needed relaxation. Fulfilling a promise for Narcissa."

"Oh. I see. Well, perhaps when they return, then." A few moments of discomfiting silence followed. "I was going to send her an owl. But since she isn't at home, the journey to . . wherever she is would probably exhaust my poor bird."

Struck by inspiration, Brian suggested hopefully, "I wonder - Mr. Malfoy, would you mind terribly - taking this letter for her, and just handing it to her when she gets back?"

Lucius slowly took the letter from the man's hand, which was shaking slightly. He smirked to himself and said kindly, "Not at all. I'd be happy to."

Gilpin broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you, sir. I'm most grateful."

Presently, the receptionist knocked timidly on the door to his private office. She opened it just a crack. "Mr. Gilpin, sir? I have the copies you requested for Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you, Nadine." He took the sealed packet from her with a cordial smile; when his hand accidentally brushed against hers, she reddened slightly then looked down demurely.

Poor, repulsive little girl - she's in love with the pompous bastard.

Nadine's boss swiftly handed him the packet. "Here you are, Mr. Malfoy. And thank you too, for that . . other--"

Never taking his eyes off the manila packet, he assured him, "Don't mention it, Gilpin. It's my pleasure." A faint smile graced his lips, and he bid the two hospital employees a very pleasant evening. Casually striding toward the lift, he hid a smirk. He left the building as quickly as possible, anxious to Apparate home as before either of them realized the young lady's error.

~End of Chapter~

Notes: Leaving you hanging has become sort of my trademark, hasn't it? :-) Sorry for the awful delay between chapters - the next one shouldn't be nearly so long.

More in a few weeks (as soon as I get my tax paperwork all done . . . ) !!