Mala Fide: In Bad Faith | By : SueLovesJude Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Ginny Views: 8819 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author
Notes: Thanks
once again to Persephone33 for beta reading for me. :-D Sorry for the monstrous delay, but this story has
fought me all the way on how it should be written. My muse has been very finicky.
In this
chapter: Telling Rhiannon the news.
Mala Fide: In Bad Faith – Chapter 15
“Goodbye, my dears.” Lucius bent down to kiss his
granddaughter on the cheek. He lovingly placed a hand on the top of her head then
moved toward his fiancée. Leaning over, he paused briefly to inhale the scent
of her honeysuckle-scented hair. Ginny’s heart fluttered as he lifted a strand
of it and kissed it tenderly.
“Could you come home a little early today?” she
whispered to him, a twinge of longing on her face.
“I’ll try.” He stood up straight and looked from her
to Rhiannon. “Are you two still planning to go out and do some shopping? Or
have my spies misinformed me?” he added teasingly.
The youngster laughed. “Oh, Grandpa, you don’t have any spies!”
Ginny grinned. “Don’t forget about Toddy. He’s
frightfully loyal to him.” She looked toward Lucius and said, “Yes, we are
going to Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping. Then, if she’s
good . . . she’s in for a very special after-birthday treat. It might involve a
side trip to the continent.”
The girl’s eyes lit up at the news. “Are we really,
Mummy?”
“Perhaps. Either
way, you’ll need to wear comfortable shoes and warm clothes.”
“Where are we going?” she begged, but Ginny ignored
her, pretending she hadn’t heard her and swirling the
remainder of the tea in her cup. When the child asked again, Lucius chuckled.
“Now you’ve done it, Ginevra. She’ll never stop.”
“Oh, I have ways of making her stop – I am a witch, you know,” she assured him
with a wry smile. “If she doesn’t, I may be forced to demonstrate a spell my
mother used on me when I wouldn’t
leave her alone.”
“Knowing your brothers, I’m sure she had a full
arsenal. Well, if I don’t go now, I’ll be late. The
Apparition ports get very busy this time of the morning. Have fun, ladies.”
Once he was out of earshot and the front door had slammed
shut, her daughter whispered excitedly, “He’s gone now. You can tell me. Where are we going?”
“I already told you, to Diagon Alley. I want to look at a few books and then visit a jeweler. I
think my watch is broken.” She turned her wrist to view her timepiece and
frowned at it.
But this did not appease her
daughter; she grabbed Ginny’s wrist and inspected her watch. It was ticking,
and its hands were moving perfectly. “Your watch is fine,” she protested. “Where
are we really going?”
“Do you promise to be good all day and not fuss?”
The child nodded eagerly.
“All right. We are
going to visit the Einhorn.”
The look on Rhiannon’s face told her mum that the
little imp had not really been listening to the Junior Book of Magical Creatures
she had been reading to her a few days earlier. “Eye - norn? What’s that?”
Ginny sighed then stood up and pushed her chair in
under the mahogany table. “It’s German for unicorn. We read about it last week,
remember? We’re going to the forests of the Harz Mountains to see them. Won’t
that be fun?”
“Mm-hmm,” her daughter agreed enthusiastically as
she put one last bite of pancakes into her mouth. She took a large draft of her
milk and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Jumping up from her chair, she started
to dash away from the table.
“Where are your manners, Rhiannon? Push your chair
in,” her mother reminded her.
The child did as she was told
then asked, “Can Lucas come with us?”
“Not this time. He can come sometime when Grandpa can come along. Today it’ll be just you and me –
a girls day out.” She latched onto her child’s hand and swung it back and forth playfully and urged her
toward the staircase. “Now come on. Let’s see what Shilla
has picked out for you for our journey.”
* * * *
*
Brian Gilpin extended a welcoming hand to the
youngest brother of his late friend Percy. “Good to see you again, Ron.”
They shook hands across his desk. It was almost as
if they knew each other but not quite. Theirs was a rather awkward association,
their only connection being a dead man whom they had both loved and admired.
Ron’s smile was tight. “Hullo, Brian. This is Hermione Granger – er,
Potter.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Potter.”
Hermione practically gushed, “You don’t know how
happy I am to meet you at last!
Finding you wasn’t easy.” Ron shuffled his feet and stared at the tops of his
trainers.
“Sit down, please.” The two lifelong friends stepped
around the stuffed, lilac-colored chairs that faced the Healer’s
his desk and sat down.
“Granger, you say? I vaguely
remember you from school. Weren’t you one of those
people who were petrified when that Basilisk was roaming around? When was that,
anyway . . . my sixth year?” He could tell from her sudden change in demeanor
that she was. He blushed.
“Umm, I-I’m sorry. Not something a person wants to
be reminded of, I suppose?” He quickly turned to Ron and changed the subject.
“God, it’s been ages. What brings you here? I read
about your last match. Congratulations!”
Ron suppressed a grin. “You mean our win against
the Holyfield Harpies? That was actually, uh, three
games ago. But thanks, just the same.”
Bugger,
Brian thought. He was never very socially adept, and this meeting wasn’t exactly boosting his confidence. He decided to try
some small talk. “I hope your family is all right. How’s Ginny?”
Ron released a tired sigh. “I was hoping you could
tell us, mate.”
“Me? I haven’t seen her in
months. Stays out at that manor with her husband’s family, never seems to go
out with anyone . . . Look, I only met her because I
was following her mother-in-law’s case, and the poor woman died last spring. I
can’t imagine your being here about that – unless you’re in the medical field yourselves . . ?” Hermione noticed that his last few words seemed
to have a rather hopeful tone.
“Why would that matter? Was there something unusual
about her death? That is, other than the fact that she was young?”
Brian shook his head and scoffed. “Only everything. But what prompted
you to come to me about Ginny? What
would I know that you two don’t?”
There was a gaping silence. Hermione turned to Ron
for support, but he just looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. No matter
how she tried to justify it, it was still a long shot. But
they’d come this far; she just had to go through with it. She cleared her
throat and began to explain what had brought them here.
“You might think this odd, but we were at this
wedding a few weeks ago, and the groom, Neville Longbottom,
told Gin—”
“Neville Longbottom? You
went to his wedding?”
“Well, I was in it, actually. We were all housemates
at Hogwarts,” she informed him. “Anyway, he mentioned that he had a letter for
Ginny from someone named Brian. And I was hoping – we were hoping – that it was from you.”
“I did write her a letter, but that was quite a
while ago. She just now got it, then?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“She didn’t?” he asked, surprised.
Ron jumped in at this point, sounding a bit tetchy.
“No. Neville forgot, as usual,” he grumbled. “I wouldn’t trust him to deliver a
Bludger if it had a Dead-On Aiming Charm!”
“Now, Ron. Neville obviously had other things on
his mind that day.”
Ignoring Ron’s outburst, Brian smirked. “Well, that
explains a few things – like why she hasn’t answered me.”
“What did the letter say?” Hermione prodded gently.
“It was meant to be private, but seeing how Ron’s
her brother, I guess there’s no harm.” He paused briefly. “It all started back when
I was treating her mother-in-law, Narcissa. Ginny visited her almost every day.
I thought she was pretty and very nice, but I was –
too shy to ask her out. Instead, I wrote her a nice
letter and asked her to go to a play with me. But the
only owls available at the moment were for hospital emergencies, so I didn’t
send it right away.
“Then Lucius Malfoy just happened to stop by. I knew Ginny lived at Malfoy Manor, so I gave him the letter
and asked him to give it to her. I later heard from a mutual friend that she did
get a letter from me, but it didn’t say at all what I wrote. She knew nothing about
the play or anything I’d said – and I began to suspect that Mr. Malfoy wasn’t
being completely honest.”
“Really?” Ron
scoffed. “A Malfoy, not completely honest? Who’d have
thought it?”
“Oh, stop it, Ron,” Hermione chastised him. He
crossed his arms and shifted in his seat like an impatient child. She ignored
his sulking and prompted Brian to continue. “Is that why you didn’t just send the
second letter by owl post? You were afraid it might be intercepted?”
“Exactly. You
know, I was telling Stella the other day—”
“Stella? Is that your secretary?” the other wizard
grilled him.
Brian shook his head. “No, my receptionist’s name is
Nadine. Stella’s my cousin. She’s
a Muggle physician. I’m Muggleborn, you see—”
“Really? I am,
too,” Hermione offered cheerily.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. What do your parents do?”
“They’re both dent—”
“Ahem,” Ron said irritably. “My sister is in
trouble. Can we please get back to her?”
His best friend placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Ron. But I’m sure whatever
he has to tell us is relevant. Go on, Brian.”
“Anyway, Stella and I have a professional
relationship as well. We learn a lot from each other. She’s
also a friend of your sister’s, and I was telling her – my cousin – how simple
it is to magically modify a letter. That must have been what Mr. Malfoy did to
my first note, unless he memory charmed her to make her forget my request,
although I don’t know why he’d do that.”
“I know for a fact he doesn’t like Muggleborns,” Hermione said hotly. Brian nodded then went
on.
“Meanwhile, my cousin and I had been doing some
research into her Mrs. Malfoy’s death – partly to
find the truth, and partly for our own satisfaction as to what might have caused
her untimely demise. We’re hoping that by combining Stella’s expertise in
Muggle medical techniques with my magical abilities and training, we’ll finally
be able to put it to rest.”
This intrigued Hermione. She raised her eyebrows
and said, “You mean you don’t worry about the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy?”
“Oh, come off it, Hermione. She’s
his cousin. I can’t believe none of your
cousins know you’re a witch.” Indignant, she sniffed and tried to ignore his
little jab.
“It’s all right, Ron,” Brian said. “Stella’s known
about our world for ages. Normally, she pretends it doesn’t
exist. I think it scares her. But back to Narcissa
Malfoy, we’re not sure yet, but we can say with some certainty that she didn’t
have an ordinary illness.”
Ron, feeling better for having just one-upped Hermione, decided to add something to the
conversation. “What do you mean, an ‘ordinary illness’?” he asked, sounding a
bit skeptical.
The older wizard furrowed his brow. “She had some rather
mundane symptoms – coughing, wheezing, and the like – but they were more severe
than we normally see at St. Mungo’s. She was always
very weak, drained of energy . . . yet she barely ate a thing. Whatever she
had, none of our methods could touch it. She just kept
getting worse as the weeks passed, until one day, she
was gone.
“Later on, her husband stopped by and asked for a
copy of her file. But my receptionist made a huge mistake: she gave him the
wrong file.”
“He got Ginny’s instead,” Hermione
said softly.
“Exactly. He
just walked away with information he had no right to. It took me a while to
work it all out – but by then, it was too late.”
“Are you sure he noticed before he left? Maybe he
wasn’t aware of the mix-up until he got home.”
“Oh, he knew, all right. He even looked inside it as
he sat there. I wondered why all of a sudden he became
very anxious to leave. When I realized what had happened, I thought back on his
visit – his demeanor and everything – and I-I just got a feeling, you know? A hunch that Ginny might be heading
for trouble and not know it. So I thought I
should send her another letter and alert her to my suspicions. I knew not to trust owl post, so I asked a trustworthy
friend of hers to deliver it, and Neville came to mind. He was supposed to deliver
it to her personally as soon as he could.”
The Healer stopped and took a sip of water then
rubbed his eyes. “I know she trusts Lucius because he’s her relative. I’m sure
he’s treated her kindly, but I think she’s making a terrible mistake trusting
him . . . one she may end up paying for with her life.”
“Yes, her parents think she’s putting herself at
great risk.”
He gazed at her then said very seriously, “I’m
inclined to agree with them, Mrs. Potter.”
“So . . . do you think the rumors are true?” she
asked in a harsh whisper, fighting the urge to cry.
He shrugged. “That depends on what rumors you mean.
Are they engaged? Is she pregnant with his child? God,
I hope not. But I think he intends to use any means
necessary, be it simple coercion or even the Imperius curse, to make her his
bride.”
Incensed, Ron wouldn’t
hear another word of this. He jumped to his feet and pointed a finger in Gilpin’s face.
“That does it!” he shouted. “My sister is not marrying that arrogant, two-faced bastard!
We have to stop her, no matter the cost. You
have got to help us, Gilpin. Whatever you and your
cousin learn needs to be reported to the Ministry of Magic so Malfoy can be
arrested and tried for murdering his wife!”
“Murder?” his friend gasped.
“Come on, Hermione, you know as well as I do he
slowly poisoned her – he had to have!
And he’ll do the same to Ginny, once he’s got what he wants.”
Brian was rather taken
aback. “We don’t know that for sure, Ron. Stella and I
are doing all we can. Medical research is a painstaking process, you know.”
Hermione took her friend’s hand and stroked it tenderly,
calming him into sitting down again. Then she said, “We have to get her out of
there. It hasn’t been safe, not since Lucius came
home. But she’s very strong-willed. It’s
her life, and she’ll live it how she wants to. What baffles me is . . . how
could she succumb to a man so evil, a wizard whose ambition once nearly killed
her?”
“What?” the Healer asked, sounding just as shocked
as if she’d hit him in the face with an ice-cold glass
of pumpkin juice.
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. She swallowed
before explaining further.
“You mentioned the Basilisk at Hogwarts. It was
Ginny who unleashed it – unknowingly, of course. But
it was Mr. Malfoy who set things in motion: he discretely slipped an enchanted
diary in her cauldron. It was the cause of the whole thing. A piece of Voldemort’s soul was inside it.” Brian stared at her in
silence. “I thought you might have known about it, since you were Percy’s
friend and had access to Ginny’s files. She nearly died, you know. She was here
for several weeks.”
“Well, I know a little of her history. But I didn’t
know that she . . . or that Lucius
Malfoy . . . ” His voice faded, unable to say anything
more. When he snapped out of it, he reached into his desk and withdrew a
business card. “This is my cousin’s mobile number. I think you should ring her
up.”
* * * *
*
“Oooh, this one the
prettiest, Mummy!”
It was at least the ninth time Ginny had heard her
daughter say that in a span of less than fifteen minutes. “Yes, they’re all very
beautiful. But I’m not looking for a necklace.”
“Hey, did you give the man your watch?”
“My watch?”
“So he can fix it.”
“Oh. That.” She laughed nervously. “It seems I brought
you here under false pretenses.” For a moment, Rhiannon just stared at her with
her mouth hanging open. Ginny smiled warmly.
“You were right. My watch doesn’t
need to be fixed. But I do need something else here; do you want to help me
pick it out?”
“What is it, Mummy?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. I’ll know it when I see it,”
she assured her.
The girl didn’t understand
what she meant, but she pretended she did.
How can
a smart witch like Mummy go shopping, not know what she wants, but know it when
she sees it?
Daniel
was right: Grown-ups can be so weird.
They continued to browse, moving slowly away from
the glass case filled with sparkly necklaces, chokers, and earrings. As they
drew closer to the fancy cabinets that were closer to the front, Rhiannon saw
there were bracelets and rings locked inside.
“Is this it?” she asked her mother, pointing to a
dainty bracelet that was laced with diamonds. The gold
glittered against the deep plum velvet backdrop, and the pure white stones
shone brilliantly in the lighted case.
“That is
pretty, but I was thinking more of a ring.”
The girl frowned. This had been fun at first, but
she was growing tired of it quickly. Sensing her boredom, Ginny took her hand
and led her to the very front cabinet, where the most exquisite
diamond rings were housed.
“Here. This is more what I
had in mind. A diamond ring.” Rhiannon’s expression didn’t change; if anything, she looked even more disinterested.
“Ooh, that one looks like Mrs. Flint’s, don’t you think?” her mum asked her. The
girl shrugged. “I wonder if Neville got Luna’s here . . . that one on the
middle row looks almost exactly like it.”
“Are these special rings?” Rhiannon asked her
mother, tracing the outline of a few of them on the front of the glass and pretending
she was actually touching them. She pointed at one of them and said, “That’s
the one Thaddeus had on his white pillow at the wedding. When the wedding was
over, it was gone.”
“That’s because Neville gave it to Luna.” Her
mother smiled. “These are wedding rings.”
“Why do you need a wedding ring? Don’t you have one
from Daddy?”
Okay. This
is it, Ginny thought, bolstering her courage.
“Yes, I did, but . . . Let’s go outside for just a
minute, shall we?” Once they were out the door, she knelt down in front of her
daughter. “Rhiannon, look at me. This is very important.” She dropped her arms
to her side and met her mother’s gaze. “What would you think if Mummy told you
she was getting married again?”
The girl looked a bit surprised. “But
what about Daddy? My friend Elizabeth said that once you get married, you’re married for always. Don’t you love him?”
“Of course, I love your daddy. But
the marriage vows say ‘till death do us part,’ which means . . . well, a
marriage is over when one of the people dies. So if I want to marry again, then
it’s all right.”
The young girl took all of this in, her expression a
cross between confusion and concern. “What if he doesn’t like me?”
“But he does. He loves you very much.” She stopped
for a moment and ran her hand down the back of the child’s ponytail. “I’m going
to marry your grandpa, Lucius.”
“What? You’re in love with Grandpa?”
“Yes, I am. And you two
are going to become even closer. Isn’t that great?”
Despite her mother’s assurances, the little girl
was still concerned. “Does my Grandma Malfoy know?”
“I don’t know. But if
marrying Lucius makes me happy, I think your grandma would be fine with it, and
your daddy would, too. He visited me in a dream once and told me so.”
When the youngster didn’t
reply right away, Ginny took her by the shoulders and looked directly in her
eyes. “Do you understand, sweetheart? Your grandpa
and I have been lonely. We love each other and make
each other happy. Wouldn’t it be better if we were both happy?”
This made the girl smile. “Yes. I want you to be
happy, Mummy.” She leapt into her mother’s arms and hugged her tightly. When
she let go, she gasped and asked excitedly if there would be another really big wedding, like the one Luna had.
“Possibly. We’re
not sure yet,” was the answer.
“Oh, but you have
to! It’ll be so much fun!” Rhiannon exclaimed, jumping up and down. Ginny
laughed.
“We’ll see. We just haven’t
decided yet. It’s an awful lot of time and expense.
Besides, each of us had large weddings the first time we got married, so it’s
not that big of a deal for either of us.”
“Pleeeease?”
She smirked and touched the little nose with her
index finger. “You just want to be a flower girl again, don’t you?”
“Mayyybe,” the child
practically sang in a slow drawl as a scheming grin gradually spread across her
face.
“I don’t know that he wants all that. Big weddings
are usually just for first marriages. We’ll talk about
it later on. But for now, let’s go pick out some rings.”
They stepped back inside and resumed their search
for the perfect ring. After choosing her favorites, Ginny requested that prices
and photographs be owled to Malfoy Manor for Lucius
to see. “Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. It will be my
pleasure,” the jeweler’s apprentice replied with a slight bow. Both witches
looked very pleased as they left the shop.
The day was bright and sunny. It was nice for
December, and the little girl was getting a bit toasty in her heavy cloak. As
they walked hand in hand, another important question came to her mind. “Will I still
call him ‘Grandpa’?”
“I suppose you two will have to work that out for
yourselves. Maybe you should ask him what he prefers.” This seemed to placate
her for the moment.
They entered the new, modern Portkey
station that had recently been built. While waiting
their turn in the queue, Ginny felt confident enough to ask, “Well, are you
happy with my choice?”
Rhiannon nodded. At last, she asked the one
question her mother had been dreading: “Why him? He’s much older than you.”
“True, but that doesn’t bother me. I still love
him.” She paused, thinking of a way to explain love and romance so it would make
sense to the six-year-old.
“I don’t know ‘why’. It just sort
of . . . happened. We grew closer as time went on, and then one day, we
were in love.
“A person can’t help who they fall in love with. My
family wasn’t crazy about your daddy at first – but
the idea grew on them as they got to know him. Once, right before our wedding, we
were playing Quidditch with my brothers. I thought
your Uncle Ron was going to knock him off his broomstick.”
The child took all this in, trying to understand
it. “But then they liked him, right?”
“Yes, but it took a while. A long
while. Then one day, they were – okay with it.” They moved up a few
steps as the line shifted forward once more. “It was when you were born that
everyone saw how devoted he was to me and to our marriage. All I know is that people outside the situation may not
understand. But if two people love each other, that’s
all that matters. Does that make sense?”
Rhiannon smiled and squeezed her mother’s hand
tightly.
* * * *
*
The shop bell rang sharply, awakening the
proprietor, Mr. Freels, from his afternoon doze. He
greeted his customer with a, “Oh, good day to you, Mrs. Longbottom,”
then coughed down a frog that had settled in his throat. “Back
from your honeymoon already? How was your trip?”
“Very good, thank you. The weather was fine, and Neville
and I enjoyed many parts of France. The south was particularly
nice.”
“It always is, Mrs. Longbottom.
I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. And
what brings you here today? I hope those rings are
working out for you two. Still sparkling like when your husband
bought them? There’s no problem with the fit,
is there? I can easily adjust either one, if you need me to.”
“No, they’re fine. Very beautiful,
and comfortable, too. Actually, I’m looking for
a gift – a thank you gift for my dear friend, Hermione Potter. She took on my
work while I was gone.”
“Remind me, what is you do, Mrs. Longbottom? Wait, don’t tell me .
. . you work at your father’s magazine, right? He’s become quite successful
these days, hasn’t he?” he asked absently as visions of Galleons began to float
around in his balding head.
Luna laughed. “No, silly! I work at Hogwarts in the library. I help Madam Pince reshelve books, check out
material, and keep the students in line.” The elderly shopkeeper blushed at his
forgetfulness. He knew she’d told him that at least
once before, as had Neville – and Mr. Lovegood
himself.
“Ahh, that’s right. Memory’s not what it used to be, my dear. Now, what would
you like to get for Mrs. Potter?”
The witch didn’t reply for
a few minutes. Instead, she gazed silently around at the cases with their shiny
contents and wondered what would make an appropriate thank you gift. “I’m not
sure. I supposed something she could wear for a special occasion.”
Mr. Freels pulled his
hand back out of the case he was just reaching into.
He was about to suggest a cedar jewelry box – it was a common gift between girlfriends
– but those were so labor-intensive that there wasn’t
much profit in them.
“How about a lovely strand of cultured pearls?” he
offered, pointing out a few of the nicer ones in the 70 to 100 Galleons range.
But when she noticed the
price tags, Luna said to him bluntly, “No, thank you, Mr. Freels.
She did get
paid while she was there. I was thinking more of a
nice barrette or maybe a special pin that we could put her name on. Do you have
something like that?”
“Well, not to be rude, Mrs. Longbottom – but how much were you thinking of spending?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps 25, 30
Galleons?”
Mr. Freels’ face relaxed;
he was beginning to fear she wouldn’t buy anything or
would want something very cheap. Thankfully, the items Mrs. Longbottom
mentioned were less expensive to make than a hand-carved, wooden jewelry box.
They also had a 400% mark-up.
“It just so happens I have some very unique pieces
in that case over there. They’re easily within your budget.” He pointed across
the room and led her to a cabinet that wasn’t locked
at the moment.
They looked over the merchandise inside, and Luna finally
settled on a barrette with red and gold lilies. It was very pretty. He offered
to personalize it, but she declined – it was 34 Galleons as it was.
While Mr. Freels wrapped
it for her, he commented, “Speaking of your friends, one of them was in here
earlier today. You are still friends
with Ginny Malfoy, aren’t you? Or is my memory
completely failing me?”
Luna’s face lit up. “Really?
Was she by herself?”
“No, she had a little girl with her, and she was looking
at wedding rings. I guess she’s decided to move on, now that her husband’s been
. . . well, deceased for so long.”
The witch’s expressive eyes opened widely and her
mouth hung open. “She’s getting married? I didn’t
think she was dating anyone. I wonder who he is?”
“She didn’t say,” the jeweler replied with a shrug.
“But my apprentice has been busy since mid-morning, photographing and recording
prices on different rings. She asked him to send owl them to Malfoy Manor.”
This perplexed Luna. “Why would she have them sent
to herself?”
“I don’t know. It is strange . . . maybe she wanted to have time to think it over.”
“It’s very strange,” she agreed. He finished adding
on the musical bow and testing it to be sure the song played perfectly. It was
one of Hermione’s favorites: Time to Say
Goodbye.
“Not to be presumptuous, but it was in the Daily Prophet that . . . ” He
stopped then called to the back part of the shop, “Geoffrey, who did Rita Skeeter say that Ginny Malfoy was supposed to be getting
married to?”
The young man emerged from his hideaway and laughed.
“Honestly, Uncle. You know I don’t read that rubbish. It’s idle gossip and lies. Now, The
Quibbler – that’s a publication you
can put your trust in. But she did ask me to send these photographs and a price
list to her house. Said she wanted Lucius Malfoy to take a
look at them. Don’t know why, though. I mean, he
was her late husband’s father, but why would his opinion matter?”
“Maybe he’s paying for them,” Mr. Freels suggested. “That family still has a lot of money,
you know. He’d want one of his own to look good, even if they’re only related
by marriage.”
Luna’s face paled slightly as she reached across
the counter, placing the 34 Galleons into Mr. Freels’
greasy, age-spotted hand. “I must go now,” she said, and he handed her the
package. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,
Mrs. Longbottom. Do stop in again sometime.” He smiled
after her as she walked through the front door in a bit of a hurry.
“Well, that was odd,” the older wizard remarked.
“Indeed. She’s always been
on the odd side. You forget, I knew her at school.”
“Yeah. But
young Longbottom’s made a name for himself, and with
that comes Galleons, my boy. By the way, good job praising The Quibbler like
that,” he said, wearing a proud smile. “One day you’ll be the best in the
business.”
Geoffrey grinned then returned to the back of the
store to fetch a delivery owl.
~End of Chapter~
Notes: Hope you enjoyed that. Mr. Freels’ name came from one of my old schoolmates, whose
last name always invoked the feeling of someone who was always rubbing his
fingers together, pretending (or wishing) there was money in them.
Reviews would be appreciated.
More intrigue in the next few chapters as things come to a head in the
Gryffindor camp. :-) I don’t know when it will be ready, as I have other projects
that will be keeping me busy for the foreseeable future.
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