Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 16

"Good afternoon, Marcus. What can I do for you?"

"Lucius," he said with a nod. He tilted his head in the direction of the two men beside him then introduced them. "This is Edmund Goodspeak and Rothchild Petree. They're Aurors. They would like a word with you, if you have a few minutes."

"Of course." The blond wizard rose from his desk respectfully, held out his hand, and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Goodspeak. Nice to meet you, Mr. Petree."

Edmund answered first. "Likewise, Mr. Malfoy. I've heard good things about you - how you're fitting in and helping the Ministry. Naturally, we are grateful."

Lucius bit back a sneer. "Not at all. How may I assist you gentlemen?"

"Like Flint said, we just need a few moments of your time. Shall we?"

He motioned toward the lift at the end of the hallway.

As they walked along, Lucius tried to make polite conversation. "So, Goodspeak. You're not working with that witch anymore - Belinda something, wasn't it?"

The Auror frowned. "No, Petree's been my partner for years. You must have me confused with someone else."

"Probably so. My mistake."

But he knew he wasn't. He had met Edmund Goodspeak almost two years ago, right after Ginny's ordeal with the great 'Saint Potter'.

Now and then, Lucius would reminisce about that blissful afternoon. It was an odd turn of events, really. It was meant for revenge - a simple act of retribution against his son who had fled Lord Voldemort and fought for the other side. Draco, having betrayed his own blood, had helped the Order of the Phoenix bring in Death Eaters all over Britain, his own father among them. The boy was a disgrace to the name Malfoy.

It made perfect sense to make Draco's lovely young wife think it was Potter who had attacked her . . . Well, Lucius figured, why not kill several birds with one stone, and have some fun in the bargain? It was the perfect plan to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces, and Voldemort had sunk his teeth into it like a dog on a bone.

But it wasn't as simple as all that. Once he'd had her, Lucius couldn't help his attraction to her. She was so alive, so vibrant. Just thinking of that look of wantonness in her warm brown eyes and how her body responded to his touch brought a smirk to his lips even now.

He soon decided that it would prudent to marry Ginevra. As his companion and lover, she would be young and healthy enough to bear him many more children. Not to mention the effect their marriage would have on those Weasley blood traitors. The very idea of their precious little girl lying beneath him would no doubt be a devastating blow to Arthur and Molly. As long as she remained unaware of what he'd done, his happiness - and the Malfoy line - would be assured.

The lift jolted a bit as it stopped three levels down, waking him from his thoughts. The three wizards exited and took a right. As they stepped into the conference room, he asked the Aurors, "How long do you expect this to take? I have a few things I need to finish this afternoon."

Rothchild informed him, "We are due to Apparate to South America within the hour. We won't take much of your time." Then he closed the door behind them.

Lucius took a seat near the door on the right side of the long table, and the others sat across from him. "Ready when you are, Mr. Goodspeak. Mr. Petree."

Edmund lifted a box from underneath the table. Inside it was a Pensieve. He withdrew a vial from his robes and opened it, depositing its silvery contents into the basin. "Your late wife was the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, was she not?" he asked as the last few strands of the memory settled into the swirling mixture.

"Yes," he replied emotionlessly.

"When was the last time you saw your sister-in-law?"

"I don't know. Probably four, five years ago."

Edmund looked mildly surprised. "She didn't come for her sister's funeral?"

"No. She didn't."

"Right. Make a note of that, Rothchild," he commanded to his younger partner. "Now, Mr. Malfoy, if you'll be so good as to follow me."

The three wizards descended into the Pensieve. When they reached the cold stone floor at the bottom, Lucius recognized it instantly: they were inside Walden MacNair's run-down, old cottage. It smelled of a mixture of damp and the pungent fumes that it normally did.

Mr. Goodspeak watched him closely for a glimpse of recognition or perhaps a change in his posture. But neither one came. "Do you know where we are, Mr. Malfoy?" he posed at last.

"No, is this somebody's servant quarters?"

"Think again. You've been here before, haven't you?" Rothchild prompted.

"I'm sure you're mistaken. I have never set foot in--"

Goodspeak hushed them both with an annoyed wave. They walked through the memory, moving further into the dark, ramshackle house. As they did, Lucius noticed the same two Aurors were already sitting at the table on the opposite side of MacNair. They appeared to be questioning him. The visitors looked on, unseen.

An aged wooden table stood at the center of the house. It was cluttered with the tools of a potion-maker's trade: stacks of finely chopped herbs, cauldrons containing liquids of varying shades and consistencies, the skeleton of a small animal. In the middle of it all was an old potions book that was starting to fray at the seam, its pages spotted with stains. The bitter smell of a badly-brewed batch of Wolfsbane potion filled the air.

"Mr. MacNair," said the Edmund Goodspeak in the memory, "do you know why we're here today?"

"No, I - I've done nothing wrong. I can't imagine why you've come. I'm not involved in anything illegal. All my ingredients are authorized, I swear! I need to sell my potions to eek out a living. As you can see," he added, waving his arm around the room, "I ain't exactly swimming in Galleons."

The younger Auror looked at him tersely. "It's not to do with your ingredients. I'm sure your methods are above reproach. We're here because we have been informed that a wanted felon had recently visited your home."

MacNair's beady eyes drew wide in disbelief.

"What? Who?"

"Surely you are familiar with the name Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black. She escaped from Azkaban over ten years ago and has been on the run ever since."

"'Course, who in England hasn't heard of Mrs. Lestrange, or her husband?" The Aurors gazed at him. "But she hasn't been here. At . . . at least, I don't think so."

"You don't think so? What do you mean?"

"Well, sometimes all these concoctions and ingredients, they make me, you know, doze in and out at times, have strange dreams - what, with the fumes and all."

Seeing the predatory look on Rothchild's face, he hesitated.

"Go on," the Auror purred.

"I . . . I think I must have dreamed she was here. She's so beautiful, you don't easily forget her. She asked me for some potions that I knew were illegal, and I told her I didn't make those no more. I learned my lesson, thank you very much."

He paused again. His eyes darted around the room, as if he were expecting to be arrested at any moment.

"I think it was a dream," he repeated, murmuring slowly. "But she promised me something, and I don't remember ever--"

"What did she promise you?" asked Edmund.

"Sex," MacNair answered bluntly. "I'd have done it too; I don't care if the old broad is married. I never liked Rodolphus, anyway." He stopped to think again. "The funny thing is, I don't recall that we did anything but talk." He blew out a frustrated breath and groaned, "I'm not even sure she was really here!"

"Thank you, you've been very helpful. We'll be in contact if we need anything else."

And so the memory ended.

"Mr. Malfoy," Edmund asked once they were back in their places in the neat conference room with its long, pristine table, "you're sure you haven't seen Mrs. Lestrange?"

"I said no, what more do you want?"

"The truth, for one thing," Petree jumped in. "You see, this meeting with MacNair took place about two weeks ago. Based on some other tips we'd received, we went back to ask him a few more questions. Only this time, he was dead."

Lucius's mouth fell open. He could say nothing for a moment or two. He just stared down at the Pensieve.

"Dead?" he finally managed to say. "Walden MacNair - is dead? But . . . how? When did this happen?"

"We don't know for sure. According to his neighbors, he rarely left his front door. The Healers are examining his body for clues right now," Edmund explained. "Considering it a possible murder."

"But who would want to kill MacNair?"

"If you have nothing else you can tell us, Mr. Malfoy, we'll just show ourselves out," Rothchild said. He stowed away the Pensieve.

"Thank you for your time," Goodspeak added politely then reminded him, "If anything does come to mind, or if your sister-in-law should turn up, please Owl us immediately. Just a reminder, if you do know where she is and don't report her, the Ministry might see you as aiding a wanted criminal. Good day, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius nodded mutely.

The Aurors walked down the corridor toward the lift, ready to Apparate to their next meeting. The grate slammed shut, and they started to move. Each one knew what the other was thinking. Petree finally voiced it. "Colossal waste of time."

"What'd you expect? I told you that before we went. Without Veritaserum, you're wasting your time with any of them. Anyway, some of them can fight it, so what's the use?"

As the lift continued its ascent, his partner lit a smoke and chuckled lightly. "I saw your eyes pop out a little when he mentioned 'Belinda'."

"I know," Edmund gasped, laughing as well. "I couldn't help it!"

"So you think he meant Bedilia?" Rothchild said as he took another drag into his wiry body.

"Who else? But how would he know about her?"

* * * * *

The fireplace inside the Potter home flared up. In it appeared a blonde witch with vibrant blue eyes. Hermione looked up in surprise.

"Luna! Is it time already?" she asked, casting a critical glance at the clock on the far wall.

"No, and that's why I'm calling you so early. Neville's had some unexpected guests. A couple of blokes from the Ministry."

"The Ministry? Whatever for?"

She whispered, "I'm not sure, but I think one of them said they're Aurors. I'll call again when the coast is clear." With that, the flames subsided.

Hermione fretted as she paced around her sitting room, wondering how to busy herself while waiting. An eerie silence hung in the air; the place was always so quiet when the girls were with her parents. She had been anticipating this afternoon for three weeks now, ever since she had met Stella - yet now that it was here, she was beginning to feel a bit nervous.

She sighed as she ran her fingertips over the edge of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. It lay neatly next to the clean laundry, all of which needed to be sorted, folded, and put away. She briefly considered sitting down and doing the brainless task, just to kill some time. It was one chore she rather enjoyed doing without the benefit of magic. But since it wouldn't take her mind off the inevitable, she knew she couldn't do something as mundane as that - not now, anyway.

She decided that she should check in with Ron, just to see if he was almost ready. He was rarely on time for anything other than Quidditch practices and games. Normally, it was just a bad habit that irritated her. But being late today could spell an end to their plans to help his sister.

Taking a pinch of powder from the jar on the mantle, Hermione called out his name. His outline appeared in the fire, his red hair blending in with the dancing flames. She silently observed that it was getting quite long and made a mental note to remind him to go get it trimmed.

"What?" he asked irritably.

A bit stunned by his attitude, she snipped, "Nothing. I was just checking to see if you were ready. If you could come here instead, it might . . . oh, my God, Ron? What happened?" she asked, her tone quite changed. "Your eye, it's practically swollen shut!"

Reaching out to touch him, she fell completely through and into his flat. She hugged him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His left eye was purple with a tinge of greenish yellow on the edges. "Who hit you?"

"Who'd you think?" he scoffed.

Hermione gasped. "Fred? Did Fred do this? Why, that little shit - I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!" Turning around, she reached for a bit of Floo Powder and then shouted, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" Ron grabbed onto her arm just before she stepped in.

"No, Hermione, don't--"

"Why not? He deserves it! How could he fight with his own brother?"

Ron looked down and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Well, I did kind of steal you from him. I've been expecting some form of payback. And really, a punch in the eye isn't as bad as it could have been. I was thinking of something more lasting, and well - magical. At least I didn't break out in zits or lose all my hair or something."

She looked at him sadly. This was all her fault. She'd been receptive to his advances; if she had said no, pushed him away that day at his parents' home, this would never have happened. If she had behaved properly, Ron wouldn't have pursued it, and then she could have told Fred privately that they were . . . well, officially over.

He chuckled. "I know what you're thinking. 'This is all your fault, Ronald.' Not surprising, really." She smiled at him sympathetically. Compared to his right eye, the other one looked ghastly.

"No! It was mine, actually. Well - maybe it was both of our faults. But never mind that; let me fix it." She withdrew her wand and set to work on making him look more like himself.

But applying the normal healing spells did nothing. The eye remained just as puffy and swollen as it had when she first saw it, and the color around it didn't improve. If anything, it worsened. "I don't understand. Why isn't this working?" She was starting to get frantic.

A few seconds later, Ron laughed out loud.

"Ahh, I get it! It was more than just a punch in the eye." He laughed again. "Yep, you guys got me, all right," he shouted as if the twins could hear him.

An unexpected voice rang in through the fireplace and said, "Good." The couple gasped. It was Fred. "So, you apologize for stealing my girl? You admit you were wrong? That you were an unmitigated prick?"

Ron blushed as he gritted his teeth. He and Hermione had both forgotten that she had made the Floo connection to the twins' shop and never actually closed it. She bit her lip and squinted. "Fred," she pleaded, "what can I do? I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It just sort of happened."

Hermione stepped forward and looked into Fred's eyes, which were uncharacteristically sad. They weren't laughing like they usually did, and it made her feel uncomfortable. Still, he held her gaze.

"But we had fun together, didn't we? Come on, Hermione. You need to laugh. You needed to feel happy again. You do need me . . . don't you, love?"

"I," she began then stopped. This was so difficult. Even Ron was feeling the tension. He turned away and took a few steps toward the window, giving them their space. From there, he watched the former lovers over his shoulder.

"I did, yes. I guess - other than an apology, I at least owe you that. Thank you, Fred, for reminding me that life could be fun. I just don't think that . . . well, that you and I could be what--"

Hermione looked away anxiously and stepped closer to Ron.

Fred stared at them both silently, shaking his head. He sighed in disappointment. Pointing his wand at his younger brother, he muttered something and then disappeared along with the fire.

Hermione released a breath. "My, that was - awkward." Turning to Ron, she saw that his eye was back to normal. "Oh, that's much better. Does it still hurt?"

"Not much. Why'd you floo so early, anyway? We aren't late, are we?"

"No, sorry to alarm you." She sighed, relieved that the tense situation with her ex-boyfriend was over. "Actually, Luna flooed me and said to come a little later - oh my God, Luna! We have to go! I'll need to stop by and get Harry's cloak--"

One at a time, they stepped into the compact fireplace and landed unceremoniously on Hermione's sitting room rug. Luna checked in about ten minutes later. Hermione snatched up the Invisibility Cloak, and they were soon standing inside Neville's office.

* * * * *

Entering through the back door of the shop, Ginny shook off the chill of the afternoon. She removed her hat and gloves and set them down on a nearby cabinet, taking care to avoid any plants that might reach out and latch onto them. When the proprietor's wife entered the darkened room to welcome her, the visitor smiled and stepped up hug her.

"Hullo, Luna!"

"Hi, Ginny," she said, returning her smile but not quite as brightly.

"It's good to see you again. I hope you and Neville enjoyed France?"

She nodded. "Very much. It was lovely. We saw your sister-in-law's sister, Gabrielle. Here, give me your cloak. I'll put it in the closet the employees share. Your gloves as well. You never know what Neville has back here that might like to eat off a finger or two," she added with a wink.

Leading the way, she said, "Come on, we'll be taking tea in Neville's office. It's much brighter and roomier than this old storeroom." Ginny smiled in silent agreement. She followed Luna to the homey atmosphere of the shop owner's domain.

Neville was signing his name at the bottom of a full-page letter. "Hello, there, Ginny. Just finishing this up."

He folded the letter, applied the wax, and sealed it with his stamp. All the while, his owl, Hootenanny, waited patiently in her cage next to his large desk. He opened the cage door and spoke softly to the bird, then gave her an owl treat. Once the letter was securely tied to her leg, he explained where it was to be delivered, gave her a second treat, and patted her on the head. When he opened a window, the bird swooshed out of it to deliver the message he had entrusted in her care.

Being the owner of a bustling enterprise didn't seem at all stressful to Neville. In fact, he seemed to be quite in his element. Ginny was surprised when a half-minute later, two rather agitated employees burst in at once and demanded his attention, each of them insisting that his issue was the highest priority. He told them calmly, "I'm sure you both have important business to discuss, but it will have to wait. I'm taking tea with my wife and my friend now--"

"But Mr. Longbottom!" the first wizard interrupted frantically, waving a spiky leaf cutting in front his boss's nose. "This is for the Glick Pharmaceuticals account, it can't wait! Mr. Glick is very demanding and has been threatening to take his business elsewhere--"

"Then let him. We have plenty of other clients, and several on a waiting list. Surely - he can wait an hour or two. If not, I think we'll survive without him."

Ginny marveled at his calm demeanor. Was this the boy who once quivered at the mere mention of the words 'Professor Snape'?

Neville's response seemed to take the wind out of the flustered wizard's sails and deflated his co-worker as well. Both of them left the office, looking a bit defeated and somewhat frustrated by their boss' attitude. Luna stood by and watched her husband in silent admiration.

"How are you, Ginny?" he said, leaning over to take her hands and kiss her lightly freckled cheek.

"Fine. Just fine."

Neville walked her over to the cozy side of the room. It seemed miles away from the desk and the constant churning of internal memos that laid themselves neatly in his inbox. "Please, have a seat."

He turned to his wife and said gently, "Luna, darling, would you mind checking on the cakes? Klaus should have brought them by now. And remind him to bring in a jar of honey." Pouring out three cups of tea, he asked, "So, how are things at Malfoy Manor? Are you getting along with Draco's father?"

At the mention of her fiance', she smiled. "We get along just fine. He's a perfect gentleman."

When Neville asked doubtfully, "This is Lucius you're talking about?" she laughed.

"Of course, silly! He's very kind to me, and he positively dotes on the children. I don't know why you can't believe it, but I assure you, he really has changed." Just then, Luna slipped back in and took a seat next to her husband.

"In fact," Ginny said coyly as she stirred her tea, "you might have read in the papers that we get along more than just 'fine'."

When she said this, Neville nearly dropped his cup. She had basically just confirmed the rumors they'd all heard. He looked at her blankly. Luna's face fell. She thought she heard Hermione gasp and Ron practically growl as they hid beneath the Invisibility Cloak behind her chair. She shot a worried glance their way.

Ginny looked up in surprise. "What was that?"

"What?" Luna squeaked.

Her husband jumped in. "Er, I think it was my, uh--"

As if on cue, Klaus came in carrying a large tray with a variety of biscuits and cakes and a jar of honey.

"That's probably what you heard: Klaus cleared his throat to signal his entrance. He does that when he knows I have visitors." He raised an eyebrow and looked up at the servant gratefully. "Thank you, Klaus. That will do."

"Yes, sir. Oh by the way, Mr. Crabbe's secretary called and said he would be running a bit late for your meeting this afternoon."

"Thank you, Klaus." The servant bowed once and left.

Ginny's mouth fell open. "Vincent Crabbe? Since when do you business with him?"

"We met up in France, actually. Really seems to know his stuff. We're thinking of collaborating on some ingredients, seeing if we can pinpoint the properties of certain plants to make potions more effective, or perhaps make some new ones. We hope to come up with some truly remarkable offerings for next year."

"Why, Neville Longbottom - you sound like an executive!" Neither one could suppress a grin.

At last, Luna joined in the conversation. "So, Ginny," she said as she wiped the cinnamon crumbs from her biscuit off her chin, "I heard you were shopping for jewelry the other day and that you had some sent to your house. Did you find anything you liked?"

The redhead witch blinked. "As a matter of fact, I did. How did you know?"

"Apparently, I just missed you. I stopped in to buy Hermione a thank you gift for covering my job, and Mr. Freels' nephew was telling me of your visit. Don't they have a wonderful shop? A bit pricey, but I hope you found something special."

Ginny was practically beaming. She swallowed as tears filled her eyes. "Well, I'm not supposed to say, because we're not sure how we want to announce it . . . but seeing how you're dear friends of mine--"

She bit her lip and sniffed. Waving her wand over her left hand, she whispered a revealing charm. On her third finger appeared the most ostentatious, gaudy ring Luna had ever seen. She looked at her husband with a mixture of grief and imploring.

Neville frowned uneasily. Not quite sure how to begin, he started off with an apology. "I'm sorry, Ginny." Then in one swift movement, he bound her with magical ropes. "I really am. But I have something to tell you, and you must listen."

"What the hell--?" she started to ask but Luna shout of Silencio quieted her before she could say anymore.

None of them but Ron had ever seen Ginny this furious before. Her eyes were narrowed with rage. She mouthed a few random obscenities and what might have been a blood-curdling scream, could she have made a sound. Her face had turned red, and her breathing was becoming somewhat erratic.

Tears of regret filled Luna's blue eyes as she said earnestly, "I'm sorry too, Ginny, but Neville's right. We have something you need to hear. It won't be easy for you, but please, let us help you."

The angry witch glared at the newlyweds. It was a bit discomfiting, but they stuck to their guns, waiting for her to calm down. When her breathing had slowed a little and her cheeks had faded back to their normal pale shade, Neville continued.

"Ginny, do you remember after Luna's and my wedding, I said I had something to give you? It was this." He withdrew Brian's letter from his robes and turned it toward her so she could see. There was Brian's meticulous handwriting, the style so much like Percy's it was scary. It read 'Ginny Malfoy'.

The fury in her eyes was soon replaced with confusion and then exasperation. Looking as though she was planning to try and escape the ropes, Neville tightened them so they were just snug enough to hold her but couldn't possibly hurt her. "Ginny. As much bother as this letter has been, you should at least read it," he said as he unsealed the letter with his wand.

He levitated it to her. It hung there perfectly still at eye level. At first, she seemed reluctant to read it and looked around the parchment back at him doubtfully.

"Go on, read it," he prodded gently.

At last, she read Brian Gilpin's letter. It included his thoughts on her fiancé, as well as a fair number of accusing remarks about what Lucius was really up to. Words like 'suspected illegal activity', 'questionable motives', and 'not to be trusted' were sprinkled throughout the text.

While she read, Ginny would sometimes furrow her brow and then shake her head in denial, as if Brian had gotten it all wrong. Her mouth flew open in surprise a number of times. If she could have done anything more than gasp at the Healer's audacity, she would have called him a liar and pronounced the letter pure rubbish. Instead, she cursed silently, mouthed a number of rude words meant for Brian - and to a degree, for Luna and Neville. How dare they be a part of this?

She soon became agitated again, and Luna decided it was time to use her father's tranquility charm. After all, it had always worked on her.

Once she had cast it, Luna reached over and placed a hand on her old friend's shoulder. The redhead relaxed a little at the touch. "Please, Ginny," Luna implored. "This is for your own good. Brian asked that Neville deliver this letter to you as a friend. He cares about you. We all do."

"I'm sure you want to know where Brian's suspicions are coming from," Neville said. "Several weeks ago, he had asked Lucius to take a letter to you out at the manor. Mr. Malfoy did give you a letter from Brian, didn't he?"

Ginny nodded stiffly and looked away from his questioning eyes. "But Brian found out later that it wasn't the one he'd written. He expected a reply, but when you never contacted him, he became concerned. So he did some digging.

"I hate to put you through this, Ginny. But believe me, we are very concerned for your safety, and your children." Then he added boldly, "Maybe Lucius Malfoy is not as reformed as you think he is. Brian doesn't seem to think so."

Ginny looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with frustration. Luna removed the Silencing charm so that she could speak freely. And speak she did.

"Well, he wouldn't, now would he?" she shot angrily. "He wanted to court me as well - so being a rival for my affections, he tried to make Lucius look bad. But I assure you, Lucius is not evil. He loves me, his feelings are genuine, and I forgave him for his past actions--"

Just then, Hermione decided she could no longer remain silent. She flung the Invisibility Cloak off herself and Ron and stepped into full view. "Do you know how his wife died?" she cried.

"H-Hermione, Ron - what the fuck are you doing here?" Wriggling in her seat, she shot Neville an icy glance. "What's going on, anyway? Am I on trial here?" The anger rose in her face once more, despite the charm. She turned to the Longbottoms. "I thought you two were my friends, that you'd be happy for me, my fiancé, and our unborn child!"

"Your what?!" he brother shouted, joining the fray.

"You heard me. I'm pregnant. I am having this baby, and I am marrying the father. And you can guess who that is! You can't stop me. No amount of pleading and nay-saying from Brian Gilpin or any of you will change my mind. Now, release me this instant; I'm going home!"

Hermione stepped closer to her. Her voice was shuddering. "Please, Ginny, we're all very worried for--"

"I should have known you two were behind this! I want you all to leave me alone and let me live my life! Untie me, I want to go now!"

But her brother's girlfriend was having none of it. "Not until you've heard what I have to say! I've waited too long - I've worked too hard on this to give up now. You need to know the truth!"

Ginny drew breath to prepare for another verbal assault.

"Silencio."

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione whispered.

"Please, Ginny dearest, just listen," Hermione begged, the desperation evident in her eyes and in her voice. "Just give me a few minutes. If you decide he's still the man you want . . . I promise, I'll never say another word."

Unable to do much else, the guest-turned-hostage relented. She glowered at the older witch, who then took a deep breath before speaking.

"We've found the cause of Narcissa's death."

At this news, Ginny's eyes drew wide and the color ran from her face.

"I know you were fond of her, and it must have hurt you terribly to sit by helplessly and watch her die. I'm very sorry for your loss. But it wasn't just a case of pneumonia or some other routine illness. That's why Gilpin couldn't identify it." She paused. "Your mother-in-law had a Muggle disease. I'm not sure how she contracted it, though, when you apparently seem healthy, as do your children . . . Ginny, have you ever heard of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome? Muggles call it AIDS, and it can deteriorate the body rapidly as it loses it ability to fight even the simplest of maladies. See, I've been working with Dr. Stella Winterbourne for the past few weeks."

This surprised Ginny more than the fact that Narcissa's cause of death had at last been identified. Hermione continued.

"What we can't figure out is how Mrs. Malfoy got it, unless she received some tainted blood - nor why it killed her so quickly. I mean, she obviously didn't have any advantage being at St. Mungo's, as the Healers there wouldn't have known what it was; Muggle physicians could have identified it quickly, possibly prolonged her life, and mostly certainly eased her suffering. She might still be alive, had she been in their care."

Looking earnestly into Ginny's eyes, she added, "And I feel certain that Lucius knew this."

By now, Ginny was on the brink of tears. Her mouth was dry and her heart was racing as she found herself at a bridge she wasn't ready to cross just yet. It was something she'd try to push to the back of her mind, something she'd hoped would never see the light of day. But her memories betrayed her as thoughts of her late mother-in-law, lying in a hospital bed, gasping for air, filled her mind . . . and knowing that she herself was intent on marrying the deceased woman's husband, and in fact, was already carrying his child.

For the first time since she and Lucius had crossed the line from friends to lovers, she doubted herself. Was she about to make a ghastly mistake? Had she already? Her mind was reeling. She was overwhelmed with emotions and thought she might faint. And yet . . . was any of it actually true?

Hermione was always so sure she was right. She would say anything to drive her point home, to prove she knew more than anyone else. Ginny found it all rather sickening. But was she certain of what she was saying, or was it all speculation and happenstance?

Breaking the silence that filled the room, Hermione said, "We suspect that Lucius somehow acquired a sample of the virus, injected his wife with it using a hypodermic needle - they're easy to get in the Muggle world - and magically enhanced it so it would spread more rapidly than normal. There are no known cases of that actually happening, but it's certainly possible. Heaven knows where he got it, but he is a very resourceful man."

At last, Ginny's tears finally spilled over as she mouthed the word, "Please." Ron undid the Silencing charm.

"What is it?" he asked his sister tenderly.

"Hermione, why do you think I would have - what is it? AIDS? I've never gotten any injections or felt ill; I haven't had so much as a cold in months."

"Well, it's also transmitted by sex. If Lucius had relations with his wife after the virus was in her system, he would probably have it too - and you might as well. But I'm pretty sure he wouldn't risk it; surely - he knew the consequences." She stopped for a moment. "I'm sorry to have to ask, but do you know if he and Narcissa were, er, intimate after he returned home?"

"I don't know." Then she asked, "What do Muggles do to keep from spreading it? Surely, they don't just - stop having sex?"

"No, they use condoms to keep from getting it from someone who is infected but may not know it yet. You do know what condoms are, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, I'm not that out of touch with Muggles and their customs."

No one spoke for a minute or two. Ginny cried quietly, thinking about what she'd heard and weighing it all out in her mind. At last, she said, "I have to get out of here. I need to think. Please remove the ropes, Neville." He complied, and his wife handed Ginny the outerwear she had brought with her.

Neville pleaded, "Believe me, Ginny, I'm sorry. We only want you to be safe. Please, think about what Hermione's said."

But she gave him no assurances. Instead she turned to look at Ron. "Haven't heard much from you, big brother; that's not like you. Did they Silencio you too?" she asked him dryly.

"I didn't trust myself to remain calm," came the gruff reply. "Besides, Hermione asked me to let her do the talking."

"Yes, that was probably wise," she said sarcastically. When she got to the door, she turned around and laughed sardonically. "Now I suppose you'll be Oblivating me, Mrs. Potter?"

Hermione scoffed. "Of course not. Please, just think about what I've said." Ginny looked at her coldly then stormed out of the office. The others released a collective sigh.

"That went rather better than I'd hoped," said Hermione.

"Oh, yeah, fucking splendid," Ron snapped. "She ran right back to him, didn't she?"

"Ron, this is going to take time. She's pregnant, apparently engaged - she can't just leave him without so much as a moment to think it over. The decision she makes could have . . . well, countless repercussions on her for the rest of her life."

When he grumbled, "Looks like her decisions are already having repercussions," she rolled her eyes at him.

"That's enough. We talked to her, she's heard our concerns, and she knows the truth. Now all we can do is wait."

Neville nodded. Hermione had done her best; they all had. All they could do was hope that it would be enough to sway Ginny to reconsider. Luna bit her lip nervously, and Ron shook his head.

Hermione sat down to nibble on a cake and take some tea. Ron sat next to her. He started to pick up something but seemed to have no appetite. He whispered to Hermione, "Would you please Obliviate me? I've got that match tonight, and I don't fancy thinking about my sister sleeping with Lucius Malfoy while I'm trying to concentrate on my playing."

"Yes, if you want me to," she assured him in a low tone. "After we leave."

Soon, Klaus came in to retrieve the trays. Taking this as their hint to leave, Hermione packed up the Invisibility Cloak and walked toward the fireplace. If the circumstances had been different, she thought, this might have been a perfectly lovely afternoon tea. The silence was broken by a lilting voice.

"Why do you think Lucius wanted his wife to die?" Luna pondered aloud.

It was a good question, but one that would have to remain unanswered for now.

~End of Chapter~