Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Sorry for the lengthy delay, but I was busy writing a juicy little one-shot for the D/G Fic Exchange over at Livejournal. As soon as the hostesses of the exchange give us the go-ahead to reveal which fic was written by which author (our identities are currently a secret, so go see if you can figure out which one I wrote), I will upload it to my favorite fic sites. :P

Thank you, Fyrechild, for beta reading it, and Damkina for advice on British wedding traditions.

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 8

"Seamus." Luna wrote then paused her quill as she asked, "It's F-I-N-N-E-G-A-N, right?"

Ginny shook her head and, without looking up from her writing, corrected her. "F-I-N-N-I-G-A-N. There's no E in it."

Her friend nodded, mouthing the letters as she wrote them. As the young Irish man had been her finacee's dormmate for seven years, and since he was going to be in the wedding, this was just a formality.

Meanwhile, Ginny scrutinized the fourth envelope she had addressed in the beautiful, flowing script. "There!" she said proudly, deciding that she had finally gotten just the right touch on the lettering. The envelope would soon contain Ernie and Hannah Macmillan's invitation to Luna and Neville's wedding. Anyone who had been part of Dumbledore's Army, including the house-elves, was automatically invited.

Except, for obvious reasons, Marietta Edgecomb.

"Very nice, Ginny," Luna said with an admiring smile. Handing her a tightly-wound scroll of parchment that seemed to unroll forever, but was actually only about three feet long, she said casually, "When you finish those, here are some more names. Let me know when you run out."

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the enormous task before her. "Luna! There must be . . 200 names on this list! When did you get so many friends?"

"Well, my circle has expanded since I became Madam Pince's assistant a year ago September."

Shuffling her way through the seemingly endless list, she asked her, "How's that working out for you? Do you still like it?"

"Oh, I love it. She's so nice to work with!"

When Luna's eyes turned back to her own list of names, the young witch sitting across from her set down the scroll, shook her head in disbelief, and stifled a sigh. She couldn't see how anybody could describe that old busybody librarian as 'nice to work with'. Except maybe Hermione, she thought.

Somewhere in her clouded memories, Ginny could still hear the screeches: "Chocolate in the library! Out, OUT!" Later on that night, when she'd had time to reflect, she realized that it might have been the first time she had visited with Harry by herself and hadn't been embarrassingly nervous or utterly smitten with him. In fact, he had been desperate to speak with Sirius, and she had offered to help him. It was then that she started to realize that he was just another teenage wizard - alone, unsure of himself, scared - except that he was facing a bit more than most other wizards his age. As they had fled from the angry librarian, there was a camaraderie, a closeness, that Ginny had felt, and she wondered if he felt it, too. It was one of her happiest memories, up to that point.

Considering all that had happened since, she sometimes marveled that she could still think of him so warmly.

Vaguely aware that was Luna prattling on about how amazing the Hogwarts library was, she snapped out of her daydreams and pretended to have been listening the whole time.

"It sounds fantastic, Luna. But still, it looks like you're inviting the whole bloody school - every student, professor, staff member, and house-elf!"

"I am not," she insisted, getting in a bit of a huff. "Just a . . few . . . hundred. Naturally, all my former dormmates are invited - Neville's, too. And of course, his employees, and his best customers from his herbology business."

"Which might explain why Vincent Crabbe's name is on the list," Ginny muttered as she slowly reached out for her fifth - or was it her sixth? - envelope.

"Oh, Vince buys loads of rare plants from Neville. He's trying to invent new potions; that's his passion."

Ginny nodded. "Of course - potions. Slytherins do tend to excel at that." After she had carefully scripted the names 'Roger and Cho Davies', she said thoughtfully, "Speaking of potions, I wonder if Professor Snape will turn up for the wedding after all this time. Even though he never really liked Neville at school, he must at least respect him, professionally speaking."

Luna cocked her head to one side. "Well, I don't think Snape has ordered anything in quite some time - at least, not that Neville's mentioned. His earlier visits to the shop were something he definitely brought up. He was so excited!"

The young widow nodded and gave her friend a wilting smile. She rather missed seeing Snape at Malfoy Manor; he and Narcissa had become so close just before Draco died. As she had often suspected, he wasn't really an absolute arsehole. He had a wicked sense of humor and a brilliant mind.

Finding it difficult to concentrate like this, she decided to change subjects. She got back to her inkpot and quill as she said, "I'm so glad you knew this calligraphy spell, Luna. I have pretty sloppy handwriting, and this makes even my letters look uniform and neat, without having to spend ten minutes addressing each envelope."

"Well, it sure beats using a time turner. I got so tired the few times I had to do that."

They worked quietly for the next several minutes. Eventually, Ginny broke the silence and asked something she'd been mulling over for several days now.

"Luna, I've been thinking," she began.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Well, surely there will be a Stag Night for Neville and his friends. What about for us girls?"

"Like a . . what do they call it when the women go out without the men?"

"A Hen Night. Only we won't just go out and get drunk and dance with strangers. I was thinking of more a private party at one of our houses; you know, have a few of your friends and mine over for games, a casual dinner, a few drinks if you want - maybe even bring in some entertainment. What would you think of that?" she asked brightly.

Luna's eyes widened. "It sounds great, but - but when will I have time to plan all that? I'm booked up almost until the day of the wedding."

Her friend giggled and shook her head. "You don't do any of it! You just show up, ready for fun. Are you in?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Luna said, "Oh yes, that sounds marvelous - thank you!"

They agreed that the night before the wedding would be perfect. "Okay, Luna, 'Hen Night' will be on the 17th of November at 7:00." With a pat on her friend's hand, Ginny added, "Leave everything to me. I promise, we'll have a great time."

"I'm sure we will." Turning back to her calligraphy, Luna finished her tenth envelope. She gave a sigh of satisfaction and said, "There! Now we just have 317 more wedding invitations to go!"

Mrs. Malfoy thought to herself, Stiff upper lip, Gin.

*****

Later that month, the weather took a decidedly downward spiral. The winds howled as dark, threatening clouds loomed in the sky. Winter was once more on its way, and wishing that it weren't would not stop its impending entrance.

"I hate traveling in a dumb, old carriage," Rhiannon grumbled to her mother. She crossed her slender arms over her chest and stuck her bottom lip out. "Why can't we go through the fireplace, like always?"

"Because, sweetheart, the Flints aren't on the Floo Network."

"Why not?" she whined.

Ginny sighed. "I told you before, it's for the safety of Marky, Emmy, and Horatio's daddy. His job is dangerous. He arrests bad wizards and witches, and he can't take any chances that one of them might get into his home and try to hurt his family."

That seemed to appease the impatient youngster for the moment. Still, she exhaled loudly as she looked out the window. Finally, the rain clouds released their burden, falling in a slow, steady beat on the carriage. The sway of the ride and the pitter-patter on the roof soon lulled Rhiannon to sleep.

They stopped with a jerk, indicating that they had arrived at their destination: the home of Marcus and Millicent Flint. The jostling of the carriage woke Lucas from his nap, and Rhiannon's eyes popped open as if on cue. Intent on enjoying as much of this afternoon with her friends as possible, she jumped to her feet.

One of the female servants was waiting just outside the carriage, holding out a brolly meant to keep the little girl dry. But Miss Malfoy flew out of the door and made a beeline for the house. The woman chased after her in hot pursuit, but the child got away too quickly; by the time she reached the door to the house, her cloak was soaking wet. The frustrated servant put the brolly over her own head and scoffed to herself, fearing Mrs. Flint's rebuke.

"Rhiannon!" the girl's mother called. Then she told the servant, "It's not your fault. Really, I can perform a drying charm on her when I get there." She scooped Lucas up in her arms and said, "Come on, Mummy's big boy. Let's go see Marky and Emmy."

The growing boy wriggled to get out of his mum's grasp. He had been attempting to walk on his own for the past few weeks and was becoming impatient with being held, which he seemed to equate with 'being held back'.

"All right, all right," his mother said as she relented and set him down on the pavement. With their brolly overhead, she held his hand and carefully guided him so he would miss most of the puddles and, hopefully, make it to the house without skinning his knees.

When they reached the front door and went inside, Ginny said, "Hello!"

The older children, who ranged in age from two and a half to seven, were already busy playing with Lucas's sister. She had such an engaging personality - and to be truthful, she was a little on the bossy side - that other children, even older ones, would often follow her lead.

Watching them play together was a rather comical sight. Horatio, the eldest, was evidently experiencing some accidental magic; every time he sneezed, his four-year-old sister's hair would stand up on end as if it were full of static. A little frightened at first, Emmy shuddered, but when she saw that Rhiannon was laughing and begging Horatio to do that to her hair, the little girl smiled and screamed with delight.

Millicent greeted, "Good afternoon, Ginny. I'm so glad you could make it. I'll have Bernice warm up more tea." Turning all her focus to the toddling Lucas, she asked sweetly, "And who is this handsome, little man?"

Ginny laughed as she removed her cloak and handed it to the waiting house-elf. "I know - walking already! Or trying to. But he is almost a year old, if you can believe it. And he's strongly motivated: he has a big sister he's been dying to chase around the nursery."

Pansy came in from the next room, teacup in one hand, a scone in the other. "He's just precious, Ginny. He gets cuter every day." Although she had no family of her own, she taught children who were not old enough to go to Hogwarts, so she was very comfortable with little ones.

"Thank you, Pansy. Now if you'll excuse me, ladies, I must visit the loo. The carriage ride seemed longer and bumpier than normal."

At times, Ginny was amazed how much the last few years had changed Pansy and some of the other Slytherins who had befriended her. But as Voldemort's side had so many casualties and his followers were treated very harshly, switching one's allegiance had become very common near the end of the last battle. The Dark Lord was reportedly still around, but no one knew exactly where. And as there was no apparent Death Eater activity, a few people thought that they were deep in hiding, afraid to come out. But the popular belief was that his most devoted servants were either dead or locked away in Azkaban.

When Draco had first introduced his bride to his former housemates, Ginny was leery of them. It took some time for them to accept one another on a social level. But when he died, things quickly changed. And since she was now at odds with her own family and most of her old friends, she treasured these new friendships.

In the parlor, Pansy watched Emmy as she gave Lucas one toy after another until he was quite overwhelmed. He started to cry, but the little girl reassured him it was okay. "They're just toys," she said.

As a teacher used to dealing with young children, Pansy was in her element. She told Emmy, "You've given him too many. Give him that stuffed silver dragon - yes, that one, the one he likes - choose two more, and put all the rest back."

"Okay, Auntie."

Millicent said nothing as this all transpired; instead, she watched Lucas with keen interest.

Pansy said, "Millie? You seem a thousand miles away. What is it?"

"I was just noticing something about Ginny's boy."

"What is it?" she asked as she stirred a bit more honey in her tea and licked the excess off her finger.

"Well, maybe it's just me but - he doesn't really look like Draco, does he?"

Stunned, Pansy blinked. "What? He looks exactly like him; he's got gray eyes, pale blonde hair, light skin - he's even getting that Malfoy look about him."

"Yes, but--"

"What?" Pansy hissed, thinking she heard Ginny coming back down the hallway.

"I don't know. He just . . seems to favor Lucius more than . . . his dad. Have you ever seen that with your students?"

She hedged, "Well, certain features do sometimes skip a generation or two, especially gifts for a particular kind of magic. Why?"

Millicent frowned. "Ohhh, I just--"

That was when Mrs. Malfoy returned; the other two witches fell silent. More tea was being brought in by the house-elf, and warm biscuits were on the tray. "Ohh!" Pansy protested when she saw them. "I didn't know they were making more biscuits! I already had two scones, and my new evening dress will never fit me by two weeks from Saturday if I don't stop now."

"I know exactly what you mean," Ginny said sympathetically. "It's been a constant struggle for me ever since I had Rhiannon." She sat down, raised her cup of unsweetened tea to her lips, and politely declined the elf's offer of a biscuit with a whispered 'No, thank you.'

She turned to Pansy and asked, "So, you're going to the wedding? Are you bringing anyone special?"

Pansy's face reddened. "Well, I was rather hoping that Vincent would escort me." Millicent looked at her with her mouth hanging open, but she seemed not to notice and went on. "That's why I'm here today, if you take my meaning. He's bringing his sons over to play with this lot," she said, making a large, sweeping motion with her hand. "I was just thinking that since their mum left, he might want a new woman. I mean - a mother figure, for the boys. And since his ex-wife has remarried, and Daniel already knows me from his school," she added with a hopeful shrug, "I hoped he might . . think of me."

"What surprises me is how much of a social event this wedding is turning out to be," Ginny remarked.

Pansy gasped. "Are you kidding? When it comes to plants, Neville Longbottom is the one of the chief suppliers - not to mention, the foremost expert on what constitute 'quality ingredients' for potions in the entire region. His products are definitely top-shelf."

"Well, I had heard that Neville had met with some success, but he and Luna are both so . . unassuming and humble, I guess I just never knew how much."

"He's loaded, honey," Mrs. Flint said flippantly. Facing her oldest friend in the world, she asked her, "But Pansy - Vincent? Are you sure that's what you want?"

She blushed furiously. "Well, there's practically no one else around that my parents approve of. That's why I'm not married yet - the last man I fell for was a . . a mudblood!" When Millicent gasped, Pansy snipped, "Well, how was I to know? They don't wear flashing signs to advertise it! And Daddy forbade me to go through with it," she sobbed as she brought her hands to her face, "unless I wanted t-to be completely written out of his will!" Ginny set her tea down and patted her shoulder.

"But your teaching salary--" she began.

Pansy scoffed, "It's a pittance. I only stay on 'cause I love the kids."

By now, the children had all but stopped playing and were looking up at the women with much curiosity. Rhiannon's mum told her that Miss Parkinson had a headache but that she would be fine. "Go back to your games, children," she whispered. When the girl tried to nose her way in, her mother gave her a stern look that she knew meant, 'Not now.'

Just then, the last expected guests rang the bell. Pansy sniffed once or twice as she wiped her nose on her monogrammed handkerchief. Millicent discretely threw a quick 'perk-me-up' spell to clear the tinge of redness off her friend's cheeks and out of her eyes. She looked as bright as if she had a nice nap from which she had woken feeling refreshed.

"Auntie Millie!" an enthusiastic young lad shouted as he ran up to her. Throwing his chubby little arms as high as they would go, he grabbed her around the waist and hugged her tightly. "I've missed you, Auntie Millie." He turned to his school teacher and said, "Good afternoon, Miss Parkinson."

"Good afternoon, Daniel," she greeted her young student formally. "And Luther. I see you've brought your daddy as well." Looking up at him with soft eyes, Pansy said, "Hello, Vincent. How are you?"

He looked away nervously. "F-fine, Pansy. Yourself?"

"Splendid, thanks." An awkward moment or two passed between them; Millicent tried to make herself and Ginny scarce.

"Ginny," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, "didn't you say you needed help finding the right entertainment for the Hen Night for Luna?"

Catching her drift, she nodded. "Oh yes, I do. Do you have any ideas?"

"I've got just the thing - come on." The two witches scurried into the next room.

Daniel and Luther stood there, wide-eyed, waiting for their father to say something. He looked down at his boys; sounding a bit exasperated, he shooed them off with a gruff, "Go on and play!" They wasted no time.

He turned his attention once more to Pansy. "Look, I - uh, was wondering if . . er, that is, if you wanted to, um, go to Neville's and - w-what's that girl's name again?"

"Luna Lovegood?" she prompted.

"Yeah, Luna Lovegood." He hesitated then continued awkwardly. "Their wedding - w-would you mind going with . . with me? That is, if-if you're not going with anyone else. Assuming if you are planning to go to it--"

"Yes, Vincent. I would love to go with you."

His mouth fell open as he blinked disbelievingly. "That's bloody fantastic," he finally said. "The wedding's at 2, right? I'll, uh, meet you at your place, say around 12 - er, no - 1:15?" She nodded with excitement, and her cheeks flushed. He swiftly took her hand and kissed it clumsily. Hearing the children giggle in the background, he cleared his throat and barked, "Where can a fellow get some tea and a biscuit around here?"

*****

For the rest of the afternoon, the children played the games they imagined; in between tackling trolls, slaying dragons, and saving fairy princesses, they fought, cried, laughed, and behaved like all children do. By 3:30, most of the younger ones were all done in. Ginny got ready to take her leave, and Vincent offered to escort Pansy home. Both parents gathered up their children and prepared to go. As Ginny bundled up Lucas in his cap and winter cloak, Millicent grabbed Pansy by the hood of her cloak and hissed secretively, "Come here." They snuck through the kitchen and into a narrow hallway.

"What is it, Millie?"

She smirked and said, "Well, first off - congratulations on nabbing Vincent. He's sure to be putty in your hands before the end of the month. I remember when you and Draco . . well, that's water under the bridge."

Pansy shrugged. "I think Vincent and I could be happy together. We'll just have to see."

"What I really wanted to talk to you about is the entertainment for that party for Luna Lovegood. I recommended Ginny go with--" She stopped and looked around to make sure there were no little ones within earshot. Pansy raised an eyebrow, her lip curled in anticipation.

"Do you remember that hot little number we had at our first post-Hogwarts sleepover?"

"Millie, no! Not that man who uses the . . . what was that charm called?"

"The Veil of Passion," her friend whispered. "It'll be great. We'll find out who's caught Ginny's eye since her husband's gone. And if Granger - Mrs. Potter - shows up, we'll see if it's really Fred Weasley who gets her hot. I'd put my Galleons on his brother, Ron; if you ask me, there's always been something between him and her."

Pansy's face was one of mild shock. "A-and Ginny saw no problem with any of this?"

"Well, I may have left a few details out about his repertoire." She sighed. "But . . once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, eh luv?"

Her friend snickered. "You are so bad, Millie. But it will be lots of fun!"

Suddenly, a loud burst came from the front of the house. It sounded like someone had kicked the door in. Millicent and Pansy ran from their hiding spot to rejoin the others. When they got there, Marcus was sitting in his chair in the parlor. His face was white as a sheet; he was shaking and practically hyperventilating.

Vincent was on one side of the chair, and Ginny was on the other. She was attempting to calm him down by stroking his back and talking softly to him. Millicent flew to him and pushed Ginny out of the way. Taking her place at her husband's side, she asked with genuine concern, "Darling, what is it?"

He shuddered. He could barely speak, but finally, words started to come out of his quivering lips.

"We, me and my men . . " He paused, and his face looked as if what he was about to say was painful.

"Yes?" his wife urged.

"We found Snape's body."

~End of Chapter~

Notes: Kind of a short chapter this time. It was just the best point to break it up. But stay tuned; more is on the way, maybe even two more chapters by year's end! They are plotted out on paper and just need to be fleshed out a bit more then polished.

Thanks for reading - and remember, reviews are known to inspire! :-D

P.S. Thank you, Owyn, for writing such a thoughtful review of Chapter 7. I appreciate your feedback, and it's nice to know you find it entertaining and suspenseful. There won't be too much more muggle influence in it, so don't worry; it will be mostly magical, as all good HP fanfic should be. :-)