Mala Fide: In Bad Faith

Mala Fide: In Bad Faith - Chapter 22

Edmund Goodspeak, his partner Rothchild Petree, and a number of junior Aurors were all waiting in suspense in front of a fireplace. They had been waiting there since noon. It was somewhat unusual that they should be at the office at all on a Sunday, sitting in a loose horseshoe-shaped formation, staring into the flames. Normally, anyone who worked weekends would have been out in the field, chasing down leads and bringing in the occasional prisoner.

Now and then, one of the Aurors would look away and blink a little, trying in vain to re-accustom his eyesight to the comparative dimness of the barely-lit room they were waiting in. One of them muttered something under his breath, followed by a yawn and an impatient sigh from across the room. Another of the younger Aurors readjusted his bum in the not-too-comfortable wooden chair. Out of the blue, someone remarked that a cup of tea just now would be quite nice.

"No," the only woman there said, "it's too early in the day. Besides, we just had lunch an hour ago."

After a moment or so, the first Auror grumbled, "Aww, stuff it, I'm getting some." He came back a few minutes later with a throwaway cup full of piping hot tea, complete with honey, lemon, and milk. He drank from it then sighed with satisfaction. "You should get a cup, too, Aggie. It's really good." He took another sip then added, "This vendy machine idea old Weasley had was marvelous."

Aggie just rolled her eyes. Beckham, one of their other coworkers, clicked his tongue. "It's a vend-ing machine, you twit. And it wasn't like Arthur invented it; he just saw them in the Muggle world, as I did myself, having grown up in it. Seeing as this one was abandoned, he altered it for our coinage and magicked it to serve perfect tea." As he was saying this, he realized that he, too, wanted a cup and hopped up out of his chair to pursue one.

Petree scoffed quietly but did not detain him. Beckham wasn't a pureblood, or even a half-blood for that matter. That being the case, the senior Auror figured that he had the least to offer this mission, and if he somehow got left behind . . . well, that was fine by him.

Old prejudices still died hard in this modern wizarding age.

When Beckham returned with his cup, yet another man decided that tea sounded like a very good idea indeed. But as the undetermined time was surely getting far too close for comfort, Rothchild cleared his throat, releasing a loud, "Ahem," then shook his head slowly, indicating that the time for refreshments was over. Any minute now, a head of silvery blond hair would appear in the fireplace, announcing that the way was clear.

They all knew it to be true, without either of their superiors saying a word.

Beckham had just enough time to gulp down his tea when the flames stirred at last, drawing every eye in the room toward them. Lucius Malfoy appeared and whispered the two words they had been waiting nearly three hours to hear: "It's time."

* * * * *

Cheroo met Ginny and her children at the front door of the Burrow. He was very pleased to see his former mistress and welcomed her, Rhiannon, and Lucas with much excitement. After the enthusiastic welcome, the two youngest Malfoys joined their grandmother in the kitchen, while Ginny went out on the grounds in search of her father.

As was typical on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Arthur was out in his shed studying some bizarre Muggle contraption. He was deep in concentration, never taking his eyes off the wire in his right hand. Each time he touched it with the wire in his left, it would just begin to glow and then gradually fade. This went on for at least two or three minutes.

At last, his daughter cleared her throat to announce her presence and said, "Hello, Dad."

Completely startled that she had come in, he jumped and replied, "Oh! Hullo, Ginny."

"What is that, and what does it do?" she asked, genuinely curious and completely baffled.

Looking at her and then back to his project, Arthur put the wires down as he admitted, "Truth be told, I'm not quite sure - yet. All I know is one wire meets the other, and the first one glows briefly then goes out. I can't imagine what its purpose is!"

She smiled softly at him, glad that some things would never change, including her father's fascination with all things Muggle. He looked back at his confounding discovery and moaned, "Oh, I wish Hermione were here; she'd know in an instant."

Ginny clicked her tongue, shook her head, and crossed her arms. "Dad, just because she grew up with Muggles and is extremely intelligent doesn't mean she knows every single thing they've ever invented." He shrugged and tried to ignore the fact that she was probably right.

Arthur spent a few more minutes of staring at the mess before him then stood up, exasperated. He turned away from the frustrating device and wiped his hands with a rag that hung from the pocket of his jeans. Ginny grinned as she noticed the rag hadn't exactly removed the residue but had instead made it worse. She silently charmed his hands clean. "Better? Now, what did you want to talk with me about, Dad?"

He looked around the cluttered shed then said, "Not here. Let's go out to the garden. I think I heard your mum saying it needed to be de-gnomed again anyway. And," he added with a faint smile, "you know what they say: happy wife, happy life."

She groaned. She'd always detested de-gnoming the garden. "Oh, I hate doing that - the nasty little buggers always bite my fingers!" Then she suggested, "What about Cheroo? Can't he take care of mundane tasks like that?"

Arthur grimaced once more. "Well, he's better at, shall we say, simple household chores. Don't get me wrong, your mother loves having him around; but he has quite a lot to learn about taking care of our home."

"Really?" she said with a sheepish grin, thinking back on what Lucius had said about the inept servant. "I do hope he's working out all right."

"Of course he is, my dear. It's just that . . . having an elf is so new for us." He put his right hand in the small of her back and said, "Now, let's go take that walk."

Just before they emerged into the sunshine of the mild winter's day, he latched onto two pairs of thick working gloves and handed one to his daughter. "Here. These might make the task a little more bearable."

"Thanks," she said with a hint of sarcasm. After taking a moment to check inside the fingers for spiders, she slipped her hands into the bulky gloves. Much to her chagrin, she found that they were almost as rough on the inside as they were on the outside. It had been a while since Ginny had had to do any form of chores, and she didn't look forward to renewing her acquaintance with any of them, this one in particular.

She sighed internally; at least it meant that she and her father would be communicating again. So it was probably worth it.

Once each of them had successfully flung out a few gnomes, Arthur stood up straight and cleared his throat. The act signified that he was ready to talk about what he had asked her here for. He didn't want to have this conversation, least of all with his own daughter, so he broached the subject as gently as he could.

"I understand you've been to the Ministry recently and that you visited with Edmund Goodspeak and Rothchild Petree."

"Yes, I have," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Why? What happened when you saw them?"

Ginny explained the gist of their accusations that Lucius might have been the one who had attacked her, and that he was on a suspect list in one or two missing persons cases. "But they were able to clear his name with Veritaserum and memories that were put into a Pensieve," she insisted.

Arthur nodded. His face was grim. Meanwhile, one of the gnomes they had tossed out of the garden earlier snuck back inside and bit him sharply on the leg.

"Oww!!" He kicked his leg reflexively and threw the creature off. It darted away before it could be picked up and flung once more. "And stay out!"

Now that the excitement of the moment had gone, as well as most of the gnomes, her father returned to the matter at hand. He sounded rather nervous. "Be that as it may, we are very concerned for you. According to Petree and his partner, the man you are about to marry may not have left his tainted past completely behind him." He lowered his voice and whispered, "Evil remains in his house . . . the home where you, and your children, now live."

She looked at him and said quite seriously, "I know that, Dad. The Aurors promised that if we provided the means through which - the portal to get to You-Know-Who - that they would destroy him. Or at least, do what they can to get rid of him."

"Ginny," Arthur said, shaking his head, "don't you see? You-Know-Who has to be gone before you get married to Lucius. Otherwise, you could be forced to take his mark. It's usually a requirement for the spouse."

The news hit her like a bucket filled with ice and water. She gaped at him in silent disbelief, and he exhaled heavily.

"That's what I thought. Didn't mention that part, did he? The only reason you avoided it with Draco was because he had switched sides and sworn loyalty to the Ministry before your wedding. But with Lucius . . . well, frankly, we're not so sure. There's been a lot of speculation and rumors floating around about him." He shook his head once more. "He's not out of the clear yet, and by association, neither are you - which is why it is imperative that you help them get rid of You-Know-Who."

She looked pale. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked him, as if it were all his fault that she didn't know.

At that, he laughed bitterly and said, "Well, you weren't exactly extending invitations to your house these last few months, now, were you?" Ginny didn't respond.

After several moments' silence, she acquiesced. "When?"

"As soon as possible. This case has become a high priority for them, and they can be there on very short notice."

She nodded and pursed her lips. "Do they have a plan? Do Lucius and I need to know about it, or do we just - have to let them in the front door?"

"They said they would need Lucius' help to access the portal." When her eyes widened, he explained, "He's been in meetings all week with Goodspeak and Petree. He knows that they know they need him to gain entrance. Then he will force Peter Pettigrew to let the others in."

"Force him? Force him how?"

Arthur looked away. His eyes surveyed the last row of beets, as if they were suddenly extremely interesting.

"By any means necessary - even by using the Imperius curse, if need be."

Now it was Ginny's turn to laugh. "Oh, so it's all right for Ministry employees to have people cast Unforgivables for them, but a life sentence in Azkaban for anyone else who casts one without their 'approval'! Well, that is convenient, I must say!" she finished with a sneer.

Her father ignored her scathing remark. Putting one hand on her forearm, he said fervently, "Ginny, you can't know how important this is!" When she struggled to break free of his hold, he latched on even tighter. "Lucius's full cooperation is the only way to a possible pardon. It would show whether he is loyal to the Ministry of Magic, to the Dark Lord . . . or perhaps only to himself. Only then will he be free of suspicion. I just don't want his past to throw a shadow over your marriage - or worse, ruin your life."

Only now did she realize the weight of the predicament the two of them were in. She swallowed hard and nodded, her eyes staring off vacantly.

"All right. What can I do to make it happen?"

"You, my dear, do nothing." He released a shaky breath, reached into his pocket, and withdrew his watch. Opening it, he added, "In fact, if everything went according to plan, it should be over by now."

Ginny was shocked. Livid. Her eyes went as wide as Arthur had ever seen them then narrowed dangerously. He had rather expected this reaction, as she had definitely inherited his wife's temper. "What?! You put my future husband at this kind of risk and didn't even tell me?" she lashed out.

"No, it wasn't me, Ginny! It was the Aurors' idea. My only part in this was to get you and the children safely away from the house." As he said this, her face was starting to turn red.

"How dare they? Didn't I give those bastards enough information?"

Arthur looked up at her in surprise. He was about to reiterate what a precarious position Lucius was in, but his speech was suddenly interrupted by the sound of alarmed shouts coming from the house.

Just then, the screen door flew open and banged against the house. Molly came running outside as fast as she could, making a beeline toward her husband's shed.

"Arthur!" she shrieked then repeated his name.

He waved his arms so she could see him and called back to her, "I'm in the garden, Molly! What's happened?"

"Oh, Arthur! Arthur, come quick!" She panted, "There's someone on the Floo for you! He says it's urgent - you must come now!" She was out of breath and had one hand to her heart. She hadn't even bothered to set down the red checkered hot pad she had been holding before she bolted out the front door.

He wasted no time jumping to the right conclusion. "Is it someone from the Ministry?"

"Yes, yes. An Edward someone." She sniffed as she fought to catch her breath. Motioning for her daughter to come as well, she said, "You, too, Ginny. Come along inside."

"Edmund Goodspeak?" her husband asked stoically. "Did he say anything?"

"No. He didn't, but he sounded very concerned. Please hurry!"

As the three of them stepped inside the house, Ginny whispered to her mother in a frightened tone, asking where the children were. Molly pointed toward the ceiling, indicating they were upstairs, either napping or playing in one of the rooms. The adults went directly to the fireplace. Arthur addressed the face in it. "Edmund," he began, "what's happened?"

"It's a mess, Arthur. An absolute, bloody mess."

"Is, um, You-Know-Who, uh . . . destroyed? Dead?"

"Yes, thank Merlin. But it wasn't easy, nor without loss of life."

Ginny's heart sunk to her shoes as her eyes filled with tears. "Who was it, Edmund? I must know; is Lucius . . . all right?" She couldn't bring herself to say the word 'dead'.

He drew a ragged breath. "He sustained some injuries, as most of us did. It was a tough battle. But we're pretty sure he'll live."

She couldn't believe how he'd worded it. Lucius's prospects didn't exactly sound bright, but she couldn't think what else to say. Seeing that his daughter was unable to form any other words, Arthur asked on her behalf, "What happened, exactly?"

If the Auror answered, Ginny wasn't aware of it. Her mind couldn't focus on anything he was saying. It seemed that Lucius was hurt, and rather badly.

Her thoughts were miles away as time slowed down. To have lost Draco so young, so suddenly . . . to have found happiness again with a man so like him in many ways, yet different, and now to be facing the possibility of losing this love as well, was too much to take. Her head swimming, she felt like she might faint.

At length, she became vaguely aware of someone saying her name, and the voices around her returned. The sounds floated into her ears but made no sense. But none of that mattered. She had to see Lucius - now. She couldn't wait.

Cutting one of the men off in mid-sentence, she demanded, "Where is he, Edmund?"

"He's at Saint Mungo's on the fourth floor. You needn't worry, Mrs. Malfoy. He's being very well cared for."

She didn't wait to hear anything more. She only knew she had to be at his side and ran for the door. Understanding completely, her mother chased after her. She knew what her daughter was feeling: she'd felt a similar sense of urgency when they'd told her to come quickly because Percy had been wounded.

Molly cried to her youngest, "Ginny, wait! You're in shock, dear. You're not focused enough to Apparate! Arthur, you take her. Take her with you, so she doesn't get hurt, too," she implored.

He nodded once to his wife. Then he made his excuses to Goodspeak, thanked him, and swiftly left the house. Grabbing onto his daughter's arm, he locked it in the crook of his own and Apparated to Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

* * * * *

"I do," she responded to the officiator.

When asked, the groom gazed at the woman beside him, awestruck, and said with quiet reverence, "You know I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

And so Hermione became Mrs. Ronald Weasley, in a quiet, private ceremony that included only family and a few friends in the backyard of her parents' home. Ginny was there as a bridesmaid, but her fiancé was not. He was still at Saint Mungo's recovering from his injuries.

As Edmund had reported, not everyone who had been at Malfoy Manor that day had been so lucky. Among the deceased were three of the junior Aurors, Peter Pettigrew, and You-Know-Who himself. Beckham ended up losing the use of his left arm trying to protect Rothchild Petree from a curse. Petree had been hospitalized for a week and a half, but he was now resting at his mother's home in Bristol. Even now, the Healers weren't sure if he would ever walk again.

When it was all over, parts of the home were in absolute shambles. Some of the walls were barely standing, while an interior wall was completely gone; the ceiling had fallen in from the second floor and landed on top of Lucius's desk; and there wasn't one solid piece of glass left in his entire study. Every pane had been completely blown out. The Aurors' intent had been to keep the battle within the dimension where the Dark Lord had been residing, but it soon spilled out into the home itself and wreaked its havoc there. Even a house-elf who had been tending to his dusting duties near the Master's study had suffered minor burns to the back of his ear as he tried to scurry out of the line of fire. The Ministry felt it was their duty to repair whatever damages had been done to the property, and the Malfoys' remaining house-elves were more than happy to help.

During the repairs to their home, Ginny and her children remained at the Burrow. It seemed a strange yet amusing place to Rhiannon; Lucas, however, was still a little too young to think much of their change in residence. Ginny did her best to remain consistent with them so that the temporary relocation wasn't too upsetting for them. Rhiannon inquired after her grandfather, and young though he was, Lucas seemed to miss him, too. Their mother tried not to cry as she explained that he was away but would return to them very soon.

Fortunately, there were many diversions for Rhiannon. She got to play with Lily and Jamie Potter every day for a whole week, which thrilled her to no end. The girls were staying with the Weasleys there while their mum was on her honeymoon. Being reunited with such good friends, Ginny's daughter found the Burrow to be a delightful change of pace, despite some of their odd rituals, the peculiar look of the house in general, and the fact that these grandparents had, as she observed, a 'very tiny dining table'. She was amazed to learn that there had sometimes been as many as 15 to 20 people around it at one time, wondering how any of them had room to eat.

One afternoon, an owl arrived for Ginny carrying news that she had been awaiting for days on end. She tore into the letter and waved her hand at the bird away to shoo it away. When it tried to nip at her hand in disgust at not getting the expected treat, Molly quickly found a tidbit for the owl to eat and then waved him on his way.

"Who's it from, dear?"

She answered her mother without looking up. "It's from Saint Mungo's. Sent by Paul Travers, the Healer in charge of Lucius's care." Her lips pursed as she read on. "He says Lucius had improved but seems to have gotten an infection. He should recover swiftly, but there is still some concern. Paul asked me to come down there as soon as I can," she finished quietly, her voice shaking.

"Should the children come, too?" Molly wondered aloud, but her daughter shook her head.

"I can't see how that would help at this stage," she whispered as she fought back tears. She stood up and grabbed her cloak. Her mother smiled, trying to remain cheerful.

"I'm sure everything's fine, darling. He's . . . well, he's young-ish, and he has so much to look forward to with you," she said caringly, placing one hand on her daughter's back and the other on her bulging abdomen. "I think he'll do all he can to come back home to you."

Ginny nodded then left to be at her fiance's bedside once more.

* * * * *

"Ginevra, my love. You've come at last." His voice sounded weak, like he had just woken up.

"Of course, I did. I've come every day this week; you just weren't alert enough to realize it," she said, smiling at him sadly. She studied him for a few moments before passing judgment. "You're actually looking better and much stronger than you were just a few days ago."

He sighed. "I'm glad to hear it. I do feel a little better. My shoulder is still sore from where that bastard Pettigrew got me."

"I know, they told me you needed quite a bit of work in that area. So it's still painful, then?" she asked as she reached out to him. Lucius winced slightly when she touched it and closed his eyes.

Ginny apologized then looked over her shoulder toward the door. Two hospital workers crossed her line of sight; talking between themselves, neither of them paid her any mind. She desperately wanted to know more about that fateful day, she closed it then turned the lock. She sat down in the chair next to his bed.

"You know, you looked dreadful when they first brought you in. What I don't follow is how did you end up here, and in that condition, when some of them didn't have much more than a few scratches?" She couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice, as if she were disappointed that he'd been hurt at all. After all, wasn't that why Aurors got hazard pay?

"Actually, I was very lucky. Some of the others didn't come back at all," he reminded her frankly.

Feeling a bit guilty, Ginny retracted. "Yes, I heard that. But why are you still in hospital, when nearly everyone else has gone home?" Lucius half-chuckled at the displeasure in her tone. It endeared her to him even more.

"Because, darling, I was the one broke the rules. One doesn't just barge in on Lord Voldemort; one has to be invited by him, or at least, follow proper procedure by contacting Pettigrew first and requesting an audience."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," she said at last and dropped the matter. "I suppose I should be grateful that things weren't worse for you." She stared down at the maroon blank on his bed. Fidgeting slightly, she admitted at last, "You know, I never did get how that all worked. Did he . . . live in our house, or within it, somehow?"

"Yes, and no. We used the portal my father had left me to shift the dimensions so the Dark Lord, and whoever he wanted to see, could meet. So I suppose he was sort of a resident of Malfoy Manor. Still, since I let uninvited guests in, I had to be punished for my audacity - and he was furious with me.

"Unfortunately, I didn't really have time to prepare or focus on him, having just had my shoulder scorched by Pettigrew. When I saw Lord Voldemort's wand aimed straight for my eyes, a cold smile on his inhuman face, I was terrified. But I couldn't attack him; my arm just fell to my side."

Ginny thought about what her dad had told her a few weeks earlier about Death Eaters who got married: that their spouses were usually claimed by Voldemort as well. Although she believed in her heart that Lucius truly wanted to be rid of this cursed life, she was still concerned about his intentions. If she even suspected he had meant to make her a Death Eater, then she could not marry him.

But how could she ask him that, without just coming out and saying it?

"I need your help understanding something," she said at last, her brow furrowed in confusion. "If you wanted him gone like everybody else did, why do you still call him that?"

"What do you mean? Call him what?" he asked, confused as well.

She looked at him seriously. "Lord Voldemort," she sneered, "Lord anything. Harry always just said 'Voldemort'. No respect implied, no title of 'Dark Lord' . . . nothing. The man was a bloody killer with a phony, made-up name. He didn't deserve anything akin to respect."

He swallowed and looked down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry, love. You're right. It's an old habit, but one I'll try to stop."

"Thank you." Ginny smiled a bit then prompted him, "You were saying?"

"Yes. Well, my arm dropped as if all my muscles had just gone to sleep. I don't even remember letting go of my wand. Only when I heard it clatter to the floor was I aware that I was unarmed and almost certain of what was coming next. Honestly, I-I thought I would never see you again, and that frightened me more than anything."

She gazed into his gray eyes, trying to interpret his feelings. Lucius continued, saying, "No matter how badly I wanted him dead, I couldn't fight against him. I'm sure it's one of his defense mechanisms he places on all Death Eaters to keep them from trying to take over and rule in his place." He looked at her solemnly. "Ginevra, I've never felt so helpless. I have to say, I'm thankful I was able to walk out alive, without needing someone to carry me."

"How many men came to the manor to fight them?" she asked.

"Eight, not including myself. And one woman."

Ginny frowned. With that many Aurors, she wondered why the lot of them couldn't just take out two rogue wizards. Still, she knew this was no ordinary dark wizard.

At last, she said, "I've heard a rumor that You-Know-Who's power was somewhat diminished after his last battle with Harry. If it was two against nine, I would think you should have been able to defeat them easily - that is, if everyone gave their all."

He gaped at her. "Are you suggesting I was merely bait, and that the Aurors didn't care if I lived or died?"

"No!" she gasped in reply. "No, of course not. I'm sure your safety was a top priority for them; they couldn't have done this without your cooperation."

Lucius shook his head and licked his lips. "Of course, everyone gave their all . . . not that I had much to give, considering I couldn't fight against him. But there were other problems besides just his power and abilities, which, by the way, were not that diminished."

"Such as?"

"The biggest problem we faced was a Lethargia curse he had cast on the dimension. I doubt you've ever heard of it, as its existence is denied in most textbooks. When used correctly, it can slow down your enemies' reactions. It spreads out like a thick fog and curls up in the corners and around walls and pillars. Because it hangs in the air, it doesn't focus on a single person; it affects every enemy in the realm. That's why so many were hurt or killed."

Now she felt even worse for having suggested that her fiance had somehow held back so that Voldemort could live. But she had to know. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm sure it wasn't easy." She took his hand and caressed his fingers.

The pair was silent for several moments. Suddenly, Lucius scoffed then said, "In the end, Peter didn't prove as useful as his master hoped he would. A few minutes in, old Wormtail must have realized that some of the Aurors had found the will to resist the Lethargia. They were starting to fight back, and it was clear from his expression that he was horrified. You should have heard him wailing. It was pathetic.

"Seizing his opportunity, an Auror called Beckham knocked Peter's arm out of the way, sending the spell he had just cast flying toward the entrance. It split the portal wide open, sending the remaining fog out into the manor and bright light streaming back in. Peter fell to his knees, folded his fat little hands, and started to beg for his life; when he promised a full confession and swore that he had been under the Imperius, the Dark Lord - er, Voldemort - used the killing curse on his aide himself.

"I was relieved momentarily, until he turned to where I was standing and silently tried to force me to do his bidding. His eyes locked on mine. Without saying a word, his voice was thundering in my head, the command ringing in my ears . . . 'Lucius,' it echoed, 'I command you to kill them. Kill them all.' I found my wand, and without even thinking, my arm went up. One of the Aurors pushed me aside, and Voldemort stepped out of the shadows and made a dash for the portal.

"The place erupted into chaos. Spells were flying everywhere, and he managed to slip through the portal. They followed close behind him. When he bolted, he lost his fleeting connection to me. He tried to fight them all at once, and again, he called on me to help. It angered him that I ignored his pleas. Arrogant till the end, he refused to be taken alive. And just like that, his life was snuffed out, as if he were an ordinary human."

Silence filled the room. Ginny stroked his hair and waited for him to continue. When he said nothing more, she asked something she had wanted to know but couldn't decide how best to say it. So she put it bluntly: "Can I see your forearm?"

Lucius raised his left arm to allow the sleeve of his thin hospital robes to drop down and turned his pale, exposed skin toward her. Nothing remained of the hideous tattoo he had worn for most of his life. As she ran her fingers over the unblemished flesh, she smiled softly. "How did that feel, to see it gone?"

"Like a millstone had been lifted off my shoulders. It might sound cliché, but there's no other word than 'free'." As he said this, she poured both of them a glass of water.

"And your problems with the Ministry - are they over? Really, completely over?"

He nodded then took a sip from the glass she had just handed to him. "Yes. Goodspeak said the help I gave them was invaluable. I should receive a full pardon any day now, and any pending cases against me will be dropped."

She finished her water and took his hand and squeezed it. "Was anything else damaged besides your shoulder? Anything I should, umm, know about?" she asked. He hesitated momentarily.

"When I first got here, I slept most the time. But once I started to come around, I realized that I could barely see anything. The Healers feared the worst."

"Oh, that must have been awful," she whispered.

"Yes. But gradually, the sight in my right eye returned, and my left . . . well, it seems to be getting better every day," he assured her.

"I'm glad you're doing better. What a relief!"

"Quite, my dear. To never be able to see your face again, or the twins, or watch Lucas and Rhiannon grow up. It would be unbearable."

"Oh, Lucius. I'm so very proud of you, for resisting and for helping to bring him down."

He smiled at the love in her voice then chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Is the house - dare I ask - still standing, or will we have to move in with your parents like young newlyweds?" She promised him that the manor was nearly back to normal.

Then she said something completely out of the blue. She had a knack for disarming her fiancé by saying such things. "You know, darling," she began. "There is something I've always wondered."

"Yes?"

"How did you ever get your hands on a Time Turner? I thought they were strictly controlled by the Ministry."

"There are, but . ." And he added in a whisper, even though the door was still locked, "You'd be surprised what pouring a few hundred Galleons into Fudge's campaign could get you."

"Oh, really?" she said, her eyes widening as her lips drew into a smile.

"Horrible man, really. Far too easily influenced by his own wants to keep a level head. The old fool had no business leading anyone."

Ginny observed wryly, "Well then, I guess that makes two corrupt wizards the world is better off without." She leaned down and kissed him.

* * * * *

Lucius returned home before the week was out. The sight in his left eye appeared to have returned to normal, for the most part. Mr. Travers had confided in his patient that it would probably never be completely as good as it was, but neither man saw any reason to let Mrs. Malfoy know.

By now, most of the damage to the manor had been repaired. All that remained was a little repainting and restoring of some antique furniture the Malfoys did not wish to replace. The children were delighted to see Lucius again, and Rhiannon insisted on taking her pony out for a ride around the grounds. Her mother chided the girl for having suggested such a selfish thing, but her grandfather would not deny her. "Tomorrow morning," he promised. "It will have to be a short ride, though. I am still somewhat tired." This seemed to satisfy the little girl. She turned and ran off to play with her brother. The adults retired to Lucius's study, where they sat next to each other on the sofa.

Ginny looked around the room then asked what had happened to the orb - the innocuous-looking object that had been used to enter the other dimension where You-Know-Who had spent hiding for all those years. He explained, "Actually, it got knocked off my desk the day you went to the Burrow."

"And it broke, right?" she asked, a bit doubtful.

"Eventually, yes. At first, it landed right there, on the rug," he explained as he pointed to the Persian rug that covered the space underneath his desk. "Seeming to be unaffected by the fall of over two feet, it bounced once, then again. When it hit the wood floor just beyond the edge of the rug, it finally shattered."

"Well, it's certainly a relief to have that gone, and to find out that it was breakable."

"Afterward, Petree and Goodspeak swooped up the broken pieces and took them with them - just in case."

Lucius reached for her left hand, picked it up, and admired the engagement ring she had gotten at Mr. Freels's jewelry shop. "That's quite pretty, you know," he told her. "I like it."

"Yes, it is lovely. Thank you for getting it for me."

"It does need a partner, though, doesn't it?" he said, turning her hand to watch the light shining off the stones. "A band right next to it would be nice. And a matching one for me, of course."

"I wouldn't say no, if that's you want." She gazed into his eyes then kissed him tenderly, her lids fluttering shut.

"So you still want to marry me? I haven't completely mucked this whole thing up, have I?"

She laughed at him and put her hands on both sides of his face. "You owe me, mister, and you know it. If you think you're getting out it this easily, you're sadly mistaken."

Reaching into his robes, he withdrew a slip of parchment with lots of fancy writing and held it between them. "Then I guess it's a good thing I got this marriage license from the Ministry earlier this morning."

"Ah, very clever, Lucius. And when do you intend to use this?" she asked, taking it out of his hands to study it.

"As soon as we can get an officiator here. Today, if you like." He called for his most loyal house-elf, "Toddy!" When the servant popped in, his master ordered him, "Get someone here to perform a marriage ceremony, and have your sister find something suitable for Mrs. Malfoy to wear. Then find a photographer, and be sure to get my lady some flowers."

Following the exchanging of vows in a very private ceremony, the two of them spent the afternoon in each others' arms, looking forward to the rest of their lives together.

~The End~