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Hungry Thirsty Crazy	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 47434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Author�s Note:� Thanks
for all the supportive well-wishes, I am feeling better now!� Here is the first part of what might be two
or three necessary to solve the mystery of Netherwood�s
death.

But first, responses like I promised!

Eleanore: I heard your request and
here it is!

Jane: Thanks!� I tried
not to keep you waiting too long.

Linneh:� A third time?�
Wow, I imagine that is pretty time consuming, but very flattering!� Thanks.�
I can picture some of you gasping at the end of last chapter�sorry to do
that to you, but glad you can recognize the value of suspense!� I couldn�t leave you hanging too long, so
this should answer some of your questions.

Lady of Clunn: He is not being
shipped to Azkaban just yet, so take a few deep breaths.� We�re dealing with a very smart cast of
characters here (with the possible exception of Ron, lol),
so I�m willing to bet that they will figure out a way to get Lucius what he needs.�
There will be an INDIRECT Hermione/Draco
alliance, which you�ll see take shape in this chapter�and I�ll put it out there
that Draco has a secret of his own, which won�t be
revealed for a few more chapters down the line.

Jesse: Thanks!� More
is on the way.

Bluezauza: Yes, Draco�s vision of his mother has been dented a little.� However, Narcissa
isn�t going to be an irredeemable character here.� It will be delved into more not in this
chapter, but in the one after it.� They
knew where to find Lucius for two reasons: they had
to know where to send the divorce papers very early on because they were official
documents, and the same with the death notice for his
mother.� The letter from Ron to Hermione
that made it to the villa with the divorce papers was on the skill of the owl,
sent out specifically to find her (because she was not at her flat).� I meant that to be reminiscent of how the
Trio sent letters to Sirius, who had no fixed location during GoF.� Other than
that, Hermione has been smart enough not to give away where in Italy she is staying; all her mail still goes to
her flat in London.� And that was a very length explanation about
mail!� LoL.

Heidi191976: The Aurors have
reason to suspect Lucius, which you�ll discover in
this chapter.� Read on to see what
Hermione does�

Kazfeist: I had such severe
sinusitis when I was 15 that I had surgery for it.� Got my septum fixed, nasal polyps removed,
and my sinuses vacuumed out, more or less.�
It was a miserable experience, but it worked.� Since then, any sinus infection I get is
dramatically less severe than they were, so even if they�re horrible, they don�t
feel that bad.� Plus, many antibiotics
don�t agree with me, so I try to avoid taking them if at all possible.� I can take Z-Pac, but I�ll second you in the
assertion that they don�t really seem to do much.� Fortunately, I�m starting to feel much better
so it seems I�ll kick this in a few days!

�

Chthonia: Some of your questions
will be answered in this chapter, some in the next few.� The headline is definitely not a red
herring.� Thanks for your ruminations on Draco, Lucius, and Narcissa.� You are
right about her � all is not as it seems, and as I said to Zauza
up there, she isn�t meant to be irredeemable.�
You�re right that Hermione lying to/not trusting Harry will damage their
relationship, but if she told him outright, his reaction at this time would
damage it, as well.� He isn�t in a place
where he can view her relationship with Lucius
positively.� It�s a
lose-lose situation and Hermione chose to delay the inevitable.� Wouldn�t you be tempted to?� As for Hermione�s declaration of love, it
seemed a very natural and right
place/method for her to do it, and I�m surprised more people didn�t comment on
it. (and yes, he will get the chance to reciprocate)

Angelnomiko: Hermione is going to
help him in the way that is best for both of them, for now�read on.

Elladee: We�ll see if Lucius and Hermione can get through this and hold on to
their safe haven (and their privacy) a little while
longer�thanks for reading!

Alynia: I know I am putting Our
Heroes� through a lot, but it isn�t my intention to torture them.� Think about it � they just had nearly 4
months of absolute peaceful bliss (chapter 20 took place at the end of July,
and it�s now November)!� For all the
tumult of their relationship�s start, I tried to give them a nice long
reprieve.� This is a bump in the road but
Lucius is not going to be immediately thrown back in
Azkaban without his due process.� Take a
breath and read on. :) ��

Margot Le Faye:�
Thanks!� It�s nice that not too
many people wanted to kill me for the cliffie�or, if
they did, they didn�t put it in their review, lol.

Im_eating_my_face:� I have to ask, why are you eating your
face?� That very deep question aside,
here is an update so you can satisfy your curiosity!!!

LaBibliographe: Things with Lucius and Draco will come along
in time.� I would say Lucius
is wary of putting himself in the role of a victim because he knows that Draco is, also, and he doesn�t want to take away from Draco�s healing.� Draco will eventually know his father�s secrets � he may
yet have some very personal questions written on his question sheet.� Glad you caught the reference about the
silver spoon.� Narcissa
will have a little depth, though�I don�t want to write her off completely.� Let�s just say she is different on the
outside than on the inside�sometimes.� I
think Lucius and Hermione are on equal ground as far
as the lies go right now�we�ll see if they add up enough to become a problem.

Tohru80:� Oh my
goodness.� I�m sorry if I made your
husband think you went into premature labor.�
Maybe I should put a warning on the story, lol.� I�m sorry about the cliffie,
but am offering a quickly-written next chapter to make up for it.� Breathe in the white light and read on!

Linneh: (hey, didn�t I already
respond to you? lol) Thanks, I�m feeling much better
now.� Enjoy the chapter!

Sweething10: Thanks!�
You�ll get some answers in this chapter.�
I�m also glad that you enjoyed Draco and Lucius�s little tiff.�
See above reviews re: Narcissa.� As for Harry�you�ll have to wait a bit longer
to see how it all plays out.

LiteraryBeauty: The lemons may
have to be on hold for a few chapters while our protagonists get Lucius out of this dilemma.�
Keep in mind that there will have to be a steamy reunion. ;)

Celesumi: Thank you, I am feeling
better.� Musca
is modeled after the cat I had with my ex-boyfriend, Metatron
(yes, my ex named him Metatron, Meta
for short, after I FACETIOUSLY suggested it�along with Optimus
Prime.� At least he didn�t choose Optimus Prime).� I
miss the nutty little furball sometimes (the ex kept
the cat).�

Morganabythesea: Well, I think I
do a decent job trying to keep up with everything I have on my plate�I know it
doesn�t always jive with the expectations of readers, but all I can say is be patient.� The muse
doesn�t like too much of the same thing over and over and I think it is
essential for me to take small breaks from things in order to renew my ideas
and get new ones.� I can tell you many of
my stories wouldn�t be as good as they are (can I say that without sounding
completely conceited?) if I had forced myself to continue writing them when I
wasn�t fully invested.� I am trying to
focus on HTC right now because I can see the light at the end of the
tunnel.� It�s starting to fall together
and I don�t want to lose the momentum I have, because honestly, I feel like
this is one of my best pieces that I�ve ever written.� So, bear with me.

Ithilwen: Yes, he has been with
Hermione or Draco all the time.� He didn�t kill Netherwood
� I won�t keep you guys in suspense over that.�
Strap in, because the explanation starts now!��

<>

Hermione willed herself to
breathe.� She knew Lucius
hadn�t done it.� However, if the Aurors found any
indication of Netherwood�s clandestine dealings with Lucius, they would jump on it.� He would be their number one suspect because
of his checkered past.� Not only would it
look extremely suspicious, but it would point a very strong finger at him as
the possible author of Faim, if it hadn�t been proven
outright already.

�� She tugged
on her hair.� She knew instantly that she
could provide Lucius with an alibi.� Veritaserum and a
memory extraction could conclusively prove that Lucius
had nothing to do with Netherwood�s murder, but it
came at a very great price.� The only way
to clear his name was to reveal their relationship.

�� No wonder
he had tried to get her to promise not to do anything.� It wasn�t shame or selfishness on his part,
though she might have interpreted it that way some time ago.� Now she knew better.� Lucius was trying
to protect her at his own expense.

�� She hadn�t
made that promise.� However, she had to
admit that she was not ready for the entire world to know that she was deeply
involved with Lucius.�
As he had said the night before, sometimes the people you loved weren�t
ready for the truth.� If
there was a way to avoid it�

�� But hadn�t
she just told him that she loved him?� It
came out of its own accord, free of any mental tinkering.� She did
love him, Merlin help her, and she knew that even though he had not said it
verbally, he felt it, too.� The very fact
that he wanted to spare her the media crucifixion that would be brought on by
clearing him shouted that loud and clear.�
�

�� She loved
him.� She loved every part of him, even his
innate arrogance and his bizarre sense of humor�and knowing what she did, could
she really allow him to be sent back to Azkaban, a place of so much
suffering?� She knew that people could
not be held there until after they entered their plea, but the Wizengamot was probably tripping over itself to convict him
whether he�d committed the crime or not.�
She wouldn�t put it past them to overlook procedure.

�� Loving a
person was not just racing to their rescue, though.� It also included respecting their wishes even
if they seemed nonsensical.� Lucius was extremely intelligent and unspeakably
strong.� If anyone could figure out what
had happened to Netherwood, it was Lucius.� Once he did
they would have no choice but to let him go.

�� It was
colossally difficult to suppress her Gryffindor instincts.� If she wanted to, she could be at the
Ministry in under five minutes and she and Lucius could be back here, together, by tonight.� He would be angry with her.� The world
would be angry with her.� But Lucius would be free, innocent, and safe.

�� Did she
care more about that than she did about the other people in her life?� Would she be truly happy having saved a man
who didn�t want it, not at the price it was offered for, while simultaneously
ruining her place in the wizarding world?� Was Lucius really
all that she needed?

�� Hermione
had no idea.� Pop culture wisdom said
that all she needed was love, but it never specified what kind or in what
quantity.� She had always prided herself
on not being one of those women who
gave up everything for a man.� Did it
make her weak or selfish or terrible to not want to lose the few friends she
had?

�� Pacing, she
found some sort of compromise.� For now,
she would act in accordance with Lucius�s request.� She would disappear from this place and not
interfere.� But if he had not found a way
to extract himself from this mess in a week, she was going to walk into the
Ministry and do it for him.

�� She scoured
the villa from top to bottom, removing anything that could indicate the
presence of another person.� A very
thorough cleansing charm, cast liberally by both her and Jo-Jo, removed any and
all physical evidence.� She went so far
as to banish the linens for the second bed.�
If he was there alone, what need would he have for a guest room?�

�� Once her
presence had been erased from the house, she approached the desk.� The magnificent wooden thing had been
scratched and the drawers yanked from their tracks.� All except that bottom right drawer�

�� The Aurors would have noticed.�
They were probably contacting a Curse Breaker at this very moment.� Hermione knelt down and pointed her wand at
it.

�� Girasole,� she
whispered.

�� There was a
faint whispering sound and a brief pulse of light as his wards dissolved.� She tugged at the handle once they were
gone.� Packed tight inside the wooden
drawer were his multitudes of pill bottles, and beneath them two fat stacks of
parchment.

�� She tucked
everything into her backpack.� Then she
re-closed the drawer.� She wouldn�t
recast the wards since she didn�t know the ones he had used anyway.� Instead, she cast a sticking charm.� The Aurors would
feel mighty stupid when the Curse Breaker informed them that there were no wards and it was just a case of
an old, sticky drawer.

�� With one
last sweep through the house, done as if it was some hotel she was leaving, she
confirmed that no one, magical or otherwise, would ever be able to conclusively
state that Lucius had any company here.� There were a few loose ends to tie up,
though.

�� Hermione
shrunk everything down into manageable loads.�
Together, she and Jo-Jo apparated
to her flat.� She gave Jo-Jo
strict instructions not to answer the door or in any way reveal her presence
until she got back.� The elf was more
than happy to obey.� Hermione�s last
glimpse before apparating back was of the little
creature cuddling Crookshanks, who was nearly as big
as her.

�� First was
the manner of Musca.�
She wasn�t sure if she should bring him with her or allow him to return
to the world of a feral cat.� He had never
truly become a tame indoor cat, though he would often sleep inside with them at
night.� Still, for a large percentage of
the day he was nowhere to be found.� That
was in marked contrast to Crooks, who spent 70% of the day in one spot, usually
the piece of furniture that received the most sunlight.

�� She
couldn�t find the orange furball anywhere
inside.� He had probably been spooked by
the cacophony of the Aurors.� Sure enough, when she finally did locate him,
he was in the courtyard drinking from the rainwater that had gathered in the
deactivated fountain.�

As she had once before, she let Musca make the decision.�
When he was finished with his drink, he eyed her outstretched arms with
disinterest and jumped back to the ground.�
The cat then loped off into the browning grass.� Hermione wasn�t surprised.� If they made it back, Musca
would find his master again.

�� One loose
end tied, two to go.� Next were Paolo and
Elisabetta.�
She pondered how best to keep them quiet
without arousing suspicion.� There was little
chance that the Aurors would think to question anyone
in town, but if they did, the Muggle couple could
unintentionally reveal them.

�� She
sighed.� It wasn�t just Paolo and Elisabetta.� Lucius had been seen around the town by many people.� He had also been seen with Hermione at the
party.� She couldn�t ensure the silence
of all those individuals.� That level of
magic was beyond her.

�� She settled
for honesty.� While clutching Elisabetta�s hands, she told her how Lucius
had become embroiled in a legal mix-up (because that was really all this was)
and that they were trying to solve it without revealing their relationship
because there was a possibility that it would not be well received.� She begged the woman not to mention her if
anyone came around to ask about Lucius, and also to
limit what they had to say about him to basic recognition.

�� What do
they think he did?� Elisabetta whispered.

�� Hermione
winced.� �They think he killed a
man.� He didn�t do it.� He was with me when it occurred.� But I can�t tell them that, because if I did
they would know��

�� She
frowned.� �Why would your relationship be
scandalous?� Neither of you are married.�

�� Put it
this way�my friends and family hate him, and his hate me.� If people knew�we would both lose everything.�

�� You
wouldn�t lose each other.�

�� I guess we
are crazy enough to think we can have the best of both worlds,� she
sighed.� �If there�s no other option, I
will go and break the news.� I won�t
leave him to be wrongfully accused for the sake of my reputation.�

�� Elisabetta thought for a long moment.� �What if Paolo and I say he was here,
whenever this murder took place?�

�� Hermione
shook her head.� �No.� I don�t want you to have to get
involved.�� It was a good idea, but they
didn�t have the memories to back up the claim, and the Aurors
would be sure to look for solid proof.�
Plus, the notion of Lucius spending time with Muggles would never be believed, anyhow.

�� It is no
trouble,� the Italian woman said.� �He is
our friend.� If you say he�s innocent,
he�s innocent in our eyes.�

�� They�ll
want proof, and there isn�t any aside from your word.� It�s too risky for you.�� If there was any way to work it, any way at
all�but there wasn�t.�

�� Very well.� Luciano is one of us now, as are you, and we won�t help any
fool who wants to harm either of you.�

�� Hermione
sagged with relief.� �I�m sorry to even
have to ask you this.�

�� It is
nothing.�� Elisabetta
smiled warmly.� �Now go figure out how to
clear him.�

�� She hugged Elisabetta fiercely.�
�Thank you.�

�� One more
loose end, and that was Tiresias
Smythe.� A
thorough search yielded where she could find him.� He was based in Vancouver, of all places.� No wonder Lucius�s
visits had been so time-consuming.� That
was a long trip no matter what the conveyance.�
Even the floo had to be draining.

�� It made Smythe�s semi-regular visits even more exceptional.� Anyone else would probably have tried to
avoid that kind of travel.� He had been a
less frequent guest lately; they hadn�t seen him since his trip to discuss
medical schools with Hermione.�
Naturally, he had wanted her to go to his alma mater and promised a
glowing recommendation.� She still hadn�t
made her choice, but that was all right because she didn�t need to for a few more
weeks.

�� She
wondered if his paging device would pick up her call if it came from a floo other than Lucius�s.� It was worth a try.� If it didn�t work, she would just have to go
to Vancouver.� Crouching before her fireplace, she grabbed a
handful of the infrequently-used powder and tossed it in.

�� Tiresias Smythe!�

�� Silence.� After a long
minute, she was ready to give up.�
Hermione was already looking for something to turn into a portkey when the fireplace sputtered to life.

�� You
rang?�� A pause.� �Hello?�
Hermione?�

�� She jogged
back into the small living room and dropped into a crouch in front of the
fireplace.� �Sorry, I wasn�t sure if it
would work from here.�

�� Where�s
here?� he asked, looking around.

�� My flat in London.�

�� Is
everything all right?�

�� No.� I need your help.� Can you come here?�

�� Certainly,�
Smythe murmured.�
�It�s not as if I have a life to lead.��
He said it with a fond resignation.�
�Step back, I�m coming through.�

�� He did a
moment later, nearly cracking his forehead on the low lip of her
fireplace.� Fortunately, he reacted in
time to avoid any serious injury.� He
brushed some stray ash from his shoulders as he straightened up.

�� Where�s Lucius?� he asked.

�� That�s why
I need your help.�� Hermione pointed at
the couch.� �Sit down.�

�� Taking in
her stern command and apparent lack of any humor at all, Tiresias
Smythe figured out that he was about to hear
something he wouldn�t like.� He sat
down.� And as it turned out, he heard several things he didn�t like, because
Hermione told him everything.

�� Lucius felt incredibly serene.� Odd, considering he was in the same dark,
claustrophobic interrogation room again.� The only difference this time was that he was
entirely innocent.

�� He wasn�t
sure if his calmness would make him seem more or less suspicious.� Many people believed that anxiety betrayed
guilt, but many also believed that anxiety was normal when one was being
accused of a crime he didn�t commit.� On
the other hand, only an innocent man could be calm because he was certain of
his faultlessness.� Either that, or the calm was a sign of absolute indifference and
would paint a portrait of him as a cold-blooded killer.� He really couldn�t win.

�� Still, he
couldn�t make himself upset.� He could act that way, though.� Perhaps he would if he was able to get a read
on the Aurors who would be interrogating him.

�� If he was
honest, he was upset, but not for his own sake.�
He was very, very angry that Netherwood had
met the fate that he had.� He had counted
the man as a friend.� His death either meant
that his friend had been attempting to sell him out and had violated one of the
restrictions of their Unbreakable Vow, or that someone else had been so eager
to discover the identity of Faim�s author that they
would kill for it.� Neither was a palatable
option but Lucius hoped for the latter.� That made Netherwood
a true victim and it meant that there was someone out there who would suffer
for his death.

�� He was a
good listener when it suited him.� Since
they hauled him in, he had tuned his ears for any clue he could get about the
murder.� So far all he could gather was
that it had taken place in Netherwood�s office;
still, there had to be enough evidence for them to consider it a murder.� He just needed to know what that evidence
was.� Then, perhaps, he could begin to do
the Aurors� job for them and piece together what had
really happened.

�� Somehow,
they had figured out that Netherwood was his
publisher.� It wasn�t beyond the realm of
possibility.� They had been very careful
to avoid similarities to the other things he published, even going so far as to
create a dummy publishing company.�
Patrick had handled everything by himself.� No one else was involved.� The only link could be the banks.�

�� Creating a
dummy corporation was one thing.�
Creating a false identity, a true John Doe with a Wizarding
Identification Number, apparition license, school diplomas, and all the other
documents necessary to be considered a real person, was another.� Netherwood hadn�t
wanted to open that can of worms and while Lucius
knew that was reasonable, he also knew that he should have pushed for it
more.� As it was, Patrick had used an
alias, but one that was traceable to him if the seeker looked hard enough.� Because of that, it would be easy to trace
the sales from Faim to Netherwood�s
secondary account.�

What wouldn�t be easy was cracking
the will of the bank officials when it came to confidentiality.� They got the customers they got because of
their promises of discretion.� Any breach
of that would reflect poorly on them and cause them to lose business.� However, when the Ministry came knocking with
a warrant, they would provide names and addresses; selling out a client was
better than being closed down by the government for noncompliance.

�� Lucius knew the legal system and he knew it well.� He had to, or else he would not be a free man
today.� If a Ministry official, or even
someone pretending very convincingly to be one, dreamed up some reason for
obtaining a warrant and found a senior Wizengamot
member dumb enough to issue it, they would be led straight to Netherwood.�

The only thing he could think of
was that they could accuse Netherwood of being party
to the crimes outlined in the book.� It
didn�t matter that no one was sure if the book was fact or fiction; the
possibility of finding a link to three heretofore unknown and unsolved murders
was enough to get the Aurors going.� Lucius harbored no
delusions that what he had done in his early twenties wasn�t murder.� However,
there still wasn�t a single shred of his heart that felt any guilt.� Those men were monsters, just like the one
who had so irrevocably damaged him.� The
world was well rid of them.

He had not just killed them.� He had erased them.� He was meticulous even in his madness.� There were no bodies, no witnesses, and no
memory of their existence.� The few
people that had the misfortune of being connected to any of them were Obliviated.� So, too,
were their victims; he spared them the memories that he couldn�t spare himself.� In the absence of all those things, there was
no hard proof that there had been any crime at all.

Save what existed in his memories,
of course.� He had taken the care to cast
an Amnesiac Charm on himself.� The charm
was considered dark, volatile magic and the average Auror
didn�t even know it existed.� Dangerous
as it was, it was highly useful; if he was questioned on the murders, the charm
would go into effect and block any memory associated with them.� It was a dangerous thing to do to anyone, especially
oneself, and that was why it was rarely used; the risk involved was too great. �He was well aware that he could have landed
himself in St. Mungo�s.� The beautiful thing about an Amnesiac Charm,
though, was that once the inquisition was over, the memories would return.

His insanity aside, he wondered if
he was right.� If the Aurors
had traced Netherwood from the bank account under the
premise that he knew something about the possible murders mentioned in the book,
how had that resulted in his death?�
Perhaps they had forced him to talk.�
Veritaserum could have made him break the Vow
and resulted in his death.� But then it
would be the fault of the Aurors.

He narrowed his eyes.� Were they trying to cover it up?� Frame him, make him take the fall because of
some convenient piece of evidence Lucius didn�t know
about?� That was mighty corrupt.� Not that he had any room to talk, having gone
to such lengths to murder people without consequence.

There had to be something to
connect him to Netherwood.� He burned to know what it was, but he was
certain they would reveal it.� The interrogators
lacked subtlety.� They wouldn�t realize
that they had more power over him if they kept him uninformed.� No, these men would rush in and try to force
him to confess because of whatever evidentiary trump card they held, and in
doing so, reveal that evidence to him.

What were they waiting for,
anyhow?� The longer he sat, the better he
could plan.� If they let him go much
longer he could complete the circle and get down all the intricate little
details of his story.� Lucius rubbed his hands over his face.� He hoped that the delay didn�t mean that
Hermione had rushed to his rescue.

Kingsley Shacklebolt
stood on the other side of the two-way mirror, watching Malfoy
as he sat and thought.� He was very
calm.� He looked more impatient than
anything else.� That wasn�t the behavior
of a man who feared a return to Azkaban.

He knew that Lucius
feared it.� The former Head Auror and current Minister of Magic knew better than anyone
else just how much Lucius Malfoy
feared Azkaban.� He had been instrumental
in creating that fear.

He should have known that things
weren�t right.� Malfoy
was the one who looked like he had been mauled by a particularly vicious
creature.� Mulciber
had his share of bruises, too, but nothing like Malfoy.

He should have realized that Mulciber had been the aggressor.� At the time, everyone had been primed with
hatred for Malfoy and it had been easy to overlook
what was right in front of him.� He had put Malfoy
in solitary, without treatment, without food, without water, until he had
confessed to starting the fight.� That
confession earned him food and water.

He remembered it only too
clearly.� They had to drag him, because
he couldn�t walk.� They had mistaken that
for rebellion.� The reality was that he
had been assaulted so brutally that it was physically impossible to propel himself in any way other than crawling.

Malfoy
had been subdued until he realized where they were taking him.� Horror stories circulated around the prison
about solitary confinement, and for the most part they were true.� The people that were placed in there seldom
made it out.� Their minds snapped like
old rubber bands.

He had fought, first verbally and
then physically.� He had begged them to
give him Veritaserum, to look at his memories,
because he wasn�t the one to blame.�
Every argument had been sound and rational.� The Aurors,
Kingsley included, didn�t want to hear it.

Whenever Malfoy�s
name came up, Kingsley had a difficult time quenching his guilt.� There was no doubt in his mind that Malfoy had done some terrible things, but he had never
deserved that treatment.� Worse was the
fact that he had endured it with a composure that few in his situation ever
had.� Most inmates screamed themselves
hoarse when they were thrown in solitary.�
Lucius hadn�t.�
He was quiet, so very quiet, until the fourth day without water drove
him to falsely confess that he had attacked Mulciber.

Kingsley couldn�t erase the broken
look of him from his mind.� His face had
been purple and yellow with bruises, his lip split and still black with dried
blood, and his eyes pained and beseeching.�
At the time he had been grimly satisfied at how pathetic Lucius looked.�

The only sign that solitary
confinement was getting to Malfoy was the advent of
mindless self-talk.� He would whisper to
himself, sometimes things that were utterly nonsensical, and other times just
one word � Draco.�
Over and over he repeated his son�s name.� Around week seven he began to rock and
sometimes to repetitively tap his head against the wall; like everyone else, he
became desperate for stimulation.� It
wasn�t enough to hurt himself so they didn�t
interfere.� But always, Draco, Draco, Draco�

Malfoy
had been in solitary for nine weeks when he got the memo about Mulciber.� The Death
Eater was dying in the infirmary for reasons no one could ascertain.� Now he wanted audience with Kingsley,
ostensibly to confess to things he hadn�t admitted at his trial.� Kingsley went; the chance to give someone
closure over a crime Mulciber might have committed
was enough motivation for him.

What he found was a man so afraid
of death and what might come afterwards that he actually believed that confessing
to everything would absolve him, regardless of whether or not he felt any
remorse.� Though he itched to dispel him
of that notion, Kingsley humored him.� He
had sat and listened, even helped him withdraw memories, until Mulciber had no more to tell.

It was his last memory � his last
crime, perpetrated here in Azkaban � that sickened Kingsley the most.� He had vomited up his lunch immediately after
escaping from the pensieve.� He could see even from here that Malfoy still bore a very faint scar on his lower lip, a
slight discoloration that one wouldn�t notice unless they knew to look for
it.� It hadn�t come from a fist or any
kind of blow.� It had come from Lucius biting down to stifle his screams.� He had every reason to scream.

That night two things
happened.� Mulciber
died and Kingsley had the worst nightmares of his life.� Whenever he closed his eyes, that memory
replayed and the guilt renewed itself.�
He had punished the wrong man.� He
had blamed the victim.� He was no better
than Mulciber.

The next morning he got a report that
Malfoy was showing symptoms similar to Mulciber.� He went to
solitary, and, swallowing his trepidation, he stepped in to see Malfoy.� He was the
first person the other wizard had seen in over two months.

Lucius
had curled up against the wall, shielding his face with thin, trembling
hands.� The light was exceedingly painful
to him after existing in pitch darkness for so long.� Malfoy was dirty,
smelly, and entirely disheveled.� At some
point he had made an effort to wash the blood away, but without light he had
missed many spots.� His clothing was a
blood-stiffened mess abandoned in the corner.�
He was wrapped in the scratchy blanket, more as an effort to ward off the
chill than to make any attempt at modesty. ��

He was delirious with fever.� Kingsley was forcibly reminded of an animal
that had just been shot; he was still, his sides heaving quickly but shallowly,
waiting for death.� He had declared an
end to Malfoy�s stint in solitary then and there and
had him transferred to the infirmary.

The illness had afforded him the
ability to remove Malfoy from the torturous
confinement without having to admit to anyone that he had been wrong.� It still ate at Kingsley.� So did the fact that they had allowed him to
be snatched out of the infirmary a few weeks later, and he knew it was at least partially abduction, for he
was still too weak to have left on his own.�
Malfoy had been dragged right back to the hive
of demons that had so thoroughly destroyed him.

To this day, he was one of two
people who knew the truth about Mulciber and Malfoy�s altercation.�
The prison warden was the other.� Malfoy had reached some kind of settlement with him after
the war�s end, the details of which Kingsley didn�t know.� Kingsley had allowed him to settle with the Wizengamot, as well, and that assuaged his guilt a little.

All that aside, this didn�t make
sense.� The man he had seen in Azkaban
was one who would never, ever do anything that could put him back there.� Malfoy would not
risk it.� Nothing would be worth the
mental torture of returning to the prison.

Feeling curiously like he was
walking back into the solitary pit, Kingsley took a calming breath and moved to
the door.

�� Lucius looked up as the door opened.� At last.� However, the person who came through the door
wasn�t who he expected.� An innate hatred
rose in him, that kind of blind emotion he had described to Draco
just the day before.� He closed his eyes
and clenched his jaw.� Control was a
virtue, at least when one was already in the den of the law.

�� When he
opened his eyes, Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting
across from him.� Being Minister had worn
some new lines in his face.� Lucius pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and
stared straight ahead, determined to ignore him.

�� Say what
you�re thinking, Malfoy,� the dark-skinned man said
after a few solid minutes had gone by.

�� I�m not
sure your ego could take it,� he replied through his teeth.

�� You are
one to talk about egos.�

�� Then here
we are, Minister.�� He tapped his fingers to dispel some of the
rage that was flooding his body.�
�Correct me if I�m wrong, but now that you have moved up the ladder, Auror interrogations aren�t really your area of concern.�

�� I�m here
to help you, Lucius.�

�� Oh, the
way you helped me a few years ago?�

�� Kingsley
hid a grimace.� He should have expected
that; Malfoy had every right to hate and mistrust
him.� He would have to do his best to
change that.� �I know you didn�t do this,
but I need proof.� I need an alibi.�

�� Lucius glared at him.�
�I was at the villa in Tuscany
which the Aurors so adroitly destroyed.�

�� Alone?�

�� Alone.�

�� Kingsley
sighed.� �Nobody can vouch for you?�

�� The nature
of being alone is that there aren�t other people around, yes?� he spat.

�� It might
be a good idea to shelve the attitude, Malfoy.� People don�t have the best opinion of you.�

�� Imagine
that,� he said bitterly.� �Tell me, Shacklebolt, what thin slice of evidence do you have to
warrant dragging me in here?�

�� It�s not
so thin, Lucius.�
You wrote Mr. Netherwood a letter.� A rather disgruntled
letter.� It seems you were�unhappy
with something he had done.� You tell me,
Lucius, what link could you have with the publisher
of Faim?�

�� The letter.� The one
he had written to Patrick after his indiscretion with the Critiquill
magazine.� Damn it to hell.� Did the man not understand how vital secrecy
was?� He should have known better than to
deal with a non-Slytherin.� Why
hadn�t he destroyed the godforsaken piece of parchment?

�� Still, it
was nothing Lucius couldn�t recover from.� He had written that letter in very vague
terms and that would work to his advantage.

�� I assisted
him in setting up the dummy corporation in order to be able to publish the book
anonymously.� I also helped with the bank
accounts.� He needed somebody who knew
how to�cover things up.�� Lucius shook his head sadly.� �Who better than me?�

�� Why the letter?�

�� He was
being careless.� I wanted him to create a
false identity for the accounts, but he was worried about the legal
ramifications.� I was worried that he
could be traced if he didn�t do it.� He
just didn�t understand how dangerous it could be.�

�� I want to
believe you, Lucius, I really do.� But how do I know you�re not covering up this
murder, too?�

�� What
reason would I have to murder him?�

�� Perhaps he
was trying to cheat you.�

�� Lucius rolled his eyes.�
�Money is a motive you will never be able to establish when it comes to
me, Minister.�

�� Kingsley
blew a sigh out between his lips.� Lucius knew he had won that point, at least.� The dark-skinned wizard looked at his folded
hands for a long moment.

�� And�there�s
no possibility�that you are the author of Faim?� �

�� Lucius eyed him.�
Silence hung between the two men as Lucius
decided how to answer that.� At last he
settled for, �Anything is possible, Minister.�

�� Kingsley
opened his mouth to say something; just as he was about to launch into the
question, the door slammed open.� Two Aurors barged in, clearly not realizing that the Minister
of Magic was already in the room.� One
held what looked to be a straitjacket, and the other had an armload of
suspicious looking potion vials.

�� Lucius bit his tongue.�
It was going to happen again.�
However much Shacklebolt played at being on
his side, it was only a ploy to gain his confidence.� He was no better than the worthless lumps of
flesh that now stood frozen by the door.

�� Kingsley
stood slowly and drew himself up to his full, intimidating height.� Lucius focused on
his breathing.� He would not be
afraid.� There was nothing they could do
to him that he hadn�t experienced before�and he was still here.

�� Gentlemen,
what is the meaning of this?� Shacklebolt barked.

�� He�s dangerous,
sir, you shouldn�t be alone with him,� the one holding the straitjacket said.

�� Are you
forgetting that I used to be Head Auror?�

�� Um, no, sir, of course not, sir!�

�� What are
those potions?�

�� The two Aurors shared a look.�
The one laden with the vials spoke.�
�Just, uh, on their way down to the Department of Mysteries.�

�� Don�t play
stupid with me.� I know what they
are.� Who authorized this?�

�� H-head Auror Pell, sir.�

�� Did it
occur to Head Auror Pell or to you that Mr. Malfoy is innocent until proven
guilty?� Or that we
have no proof of any wrongdoing save for an angry letter that is circumstantial
at best?�

�� With all
due respect, sir, he is a Death Eater.�

�� I was a Death Eater, you halfwit,� Lucius growled.

�� Quiet, both of you!� Shacklebolt
thundered.� �What are your names, Aurors?�

�� The two men
shared another look � one of certain doom.

�� Fratello.�

�� Tibbins.�

�� Well, Tibbins and Fratello, you are
hereby suspended without pay until you attend a disciplinary hearing to decide
whether or not your Auror licenses should be revoked
indefinitely.�

�� Lucius gave no sign of the absolute shock he was
experiencing, save a slight raise of his eyebrows.� The one called Tibbins
wasn�t bothering to cover his shock.

�� He�s a
murderer and he belongs in Azkaban!� he exclaimed.� �We were only going to give him what he
deserves!�

�� At that
moment, another very surprising thing happened.�
Three men burst through the door, flanked by a panicked secretary.

�� I�m so
sorry!� the flustered secretary said.�
�They wouldn�t take no for an answer.�
I tried to stop them��

�� I am his lawyer!� one of the men shouted.� He was an old, thin slip of a man, very tall,
who looked so frail that he ought not be capable of
the booming voice that came out of him.�
�Who received his client�s notice a full four hours after it was sent
due to a mysteriously Confunded owl!� You had better believe I�ll be filing a
motion to dismiss!� This is an outrage!�

�� What the
hell is that?� the second man demanded as he stepped out from behind the
enraged lawyer.� He pointed at Fratello, who still held the straitjacket.

�� Mr. Malfoy, please calm down,� Kingsley said.�

�� No!� Draco nearly roared, stalking forward.� �My father hasn�t done anything!� You won�t lock him up again!�

�� Fratello, give me that,� Kingsley demanded, holding out his
hand.� Hesitantly, the cowed Auror handed the garment over.� Kingsley immediately incinerated it.

�� And what
about these?� the third man demanded, motioning at Tibbins.� �What was your plan, use pain-eliciting
potions until he confesses to a crime he didn�t commit?� It�s lovely to know that your Ministry
condones that.� Who needs the Cruciatus when you have carte blanche?�

�� It�s not
your business,� Tibbins countered nastily.

�� Tibbins, get out, and if those potions are not
returned to where they came from, I will throw you in Azkaban!� Shacklebolt said icily.

�� Tibbins didn�t need any more prompting.� He turned and fled.� Fratello was hot on
his heels.� Kingsley sighed deeply.� He felt the pound of a headache beginning
behind his right eye.

�� I�m
sorry,� he said, facing the third man, the one who spoke with a strange accent,
�but who are you?�

�� I am Mr. Malfoy�s personal healer.�

�� I assure
you, no damage has been done to your patient.�

�� I beg to
differ, if Mr. Tibbins was in any way involved with
his arrest,� Tiresias huffed.� He stalked over to Lucius
and began to examine him.� Lucius complied with Smythe�s
irritated prodding, still too surprised to speak.

�� My patient, as you put it, has no less than
eight fresh contusions.� I would say your
men were a little rougher than necessary when bringing him in,� Smythe sneered.

�� He�d been
scolded and even harangued once or twice, but Lucius
had never heard that tone of voice from his healer.� He wondered if it would have made a
difference if he knew he was addressing Britain�s Minister of Magic.

�� That is
yet to be determined.� If you�ll excuse
me, gentlemen, I will retrieve some competent
Aurors to begin questioning.� You have an hour.�

�� Shacklebolt strode from the interrogation room, leaving the
four men in the small, dark space.� The
door clicked shut�and the strategizing began.

�� Jo-Jo was
cleaning her flat.� Hermione let the elf
go.� She knew it was the only way that
Jo-Jo could cope; besides, the flat was already looking ten times better than
before.

�� She had
tried to join in the cleaning, but Jo-Jo wouldn�t have it.� Sighing, Hermione wracked her brain for
something to do.� The waiting was driving
her mad.

�� Her eyes
were drawn to the bag in which she had stuffed the thick stacks of parchment
that made up Soif and whatever other project Lucius had been working on.�
It was taking every bit of self-control she had not to take them out and
read them both in entirety.� He wouldn�t
know if she did, but she had promised him that she wouldn�t read until he was
finished.� He�d made no such rule for the
new thing he was writing�

�� She reached
out for the bag, then halted.� Damn it to hell.� She drew her arm back.� This was going to kill her.

�� Draco and the Malfoy family
lawyer, Absolon Grier, were in the corner talking in
hushed tones.� That left Lucius and Tiresias in the other
corner, supposedly under the guise of Tiresias
healing his bruises.� Smythe�s
eyes flickered to the other men briefly.�
Then he looked straight at Lucius and spoke in
a whisper.

�� Your pills.�

�� Lucius looked down at his open hand.� Good lord, did he really take that much
medication?� He usually took them one at
a time, rather than preparing them all together, so he wasn�t used to seeing
the pile of pills.� No sooner had he
scooped them from the healer�s hand than Smythe had a
glass of water ready in the other one.

�� Drink it
all,� he ordered in a low voice.� Lucius had no trouble complying with that; he was
dreadfully thirsty.� �Good,� Smythe said.� With
another uneasy glance at the other dyad, he continued.� �We�re going to have to let them know about
your�curse.� I won�t have you missing
these meds.� You�re doing so well.�

�� Lucius frowned at him.�
He wouldn�t have used the word �curse� unless��

�You talked to Hermione?�

�� Yes.� She told me everything.�

�� His stomach
dropped.� For a long time, he hadn�t
cared that he left Tiresias in the dark.� The healer didn�t seem to care, either; he
was content with whatever information Lucius chose to
bestow upon him when it came to his life story.�
However, that was before he had come to view the man as a friend.� He felt strangely anxious.

�� Everything?�
he asked softly.

�� Everything
she deemed necessary.� I don�t know if
that�s really everything.�� He shrugged.

�� I was�� he
sighed, �well, you see how I�m handled, even now.� I was worried that you wouldn�t treat me if
you knew.�

�� I�m a
healer, not a judge.�� Smythe shook his head.�
�To know you now�I almost can�t believe it.�

�� I was a
different man.�

�� Smythe sighed and rubbed his temples.� �I believe you were.�� He smiled tiredly.� �She misses you.� She told me that if I didn�t look out for you
there would be unpleasant consequences.�

�� That drew a
smile out of Lucius for the first time in hours.

�� This is so
bloody boring,� Ron complained.

�� Harry
sighed.� Ron was only stating the truth,
but it didn�t help things.� He often
wished his friend realized that complaining about an undesirable situation only
made it worse.

�� They
weren�t making any progress.� They had
been excited initially when they had been chosen to participate in a real Auror investigation.�
When they found out what that investigation was, they�d been nearly
delirious with joy.� In their minds,
there was no chance in hell that Lucius Malfoy was innocent.�
Harry and Ron had both flooed from training
camp with visions of scouring the crime scene, breaking the case, and finally
sending that old bastard to prison for good.

�� Instead,
they were in some tiny Tuscan village questioning Muggles,
of all people.� They couldn�t even wear
their Auror robes.�
Harry thought the Carabinieri uniforms
actually looked kind of dashing, but Ron was not sold.� The redhead was in a foul mood overall and
the uncooperative Muggles weren�t helping.

�� Every
single person they had talked to either shrugged and said they had never seen
the man in the photograph (specially enchanted to be still) or mentioned that
they had seen him about town, but knew nothing about him.� It was odd that Malfoy
would even bother to come into town, given that they were Muggles
and everyone knew how he felt about them.�
It was probably only out of necessity.

�� Why would
any of these people know anything about him?�
He�s likely to hex them if they get too close!� Ron seethed, kicking at
a rock.� They were approaching the last
house on a long, winding road called Briatore.

�� After this
we�re done,� Harry sighed.� �I don�t
think they expected us to find anything.�
It�s just protocol.� Someone has
to do it.�

�� Yeah, give
it to the newbies.�
Great preparation for the real thing.�

�� Harry
couldn�t refute that.� Still, he was glad
that the trainers had felt that he and Ron were ready to be part of a real
investigation, no matter how boring it was.

�I�ll do the talking.�

�� Be my
guest,� Ron grumped.�

�� Hermione
had finally fallen asleep on the couch when Tiresias
came through the floo.� It startled her badly and she fell from the
plush cushions with a yelp.� Smythe just eyed her as she colored with mortification and
picked herself up.

�� So?� she
demanded crossly.

�� So, his
lawyer is terrifying.�

�� I�d expect
nothing less.�

�� He�s
terrifying but persuasive.� Lucius has been declared a person of interest and placed
under house arrest.�

�� House
arrest,� she repeated.

�� Yes, at Malfoy Manor.�

�� Hermione
sank into the couch, almost boneless with relief.� �How�how�d they swing that?�

�� We had to
tell them about the curse.� I swore up
and down that he needed daily medical treatment and that the conditions in
prison would endanger his health.�

�� She blew a
breath out between her lips.� �It�ll be
all over the papers tomorrow morning.�

�� I�m sure
it will, but no one will know what it really is.�

�� Hermione
shook her head.� �I wonder which story
will get greater billing � the curse or the fact that he�s a �person of
interest� in a murder.�

�� I guess
we�ll find out.�� Tiresias
looked around the now spotless flat.�
�Where am I sleeping?�

�� Guest
room,� Hermione responded.� �Second door on the left.��

�� When she
looked in on him half an hour later, Tiresias was
asleep facedown on top of the covers with every stitch of his clothes and the light still on.

�� Sleep
didn�t come so easily to Hermione.�
Though she was exhausted, she couldn�t turn off her mind.� The good thing was that Lucius
was not in Azkaban and not at the mercy of people who had already decided he
was guilty.� The bad thing was that he
wasn�t cleared yet.

�� She knew
how quickly the Ministry could change its mood.�
If they were heavily pressured by public opinion, they would drag Lucius back in and she would have no choice but to show
them all the truth.� One truth was
already being revealed; she was certain Lucius would
hate that everyone knew how sick he was.�
He had accepted his illness but he was still a proud man.

�� After
nearly an hour and a half of sleeplessness, she resorted to a potion.� She couldn�t risk being groggy tomorrow.� Every moment would be a challenge, one she
couldn�t face if she wasn�t well-rested.

�� She had to
go to class in Florence.� Though she had never been one to daydream in
class, she knew the time had finally come.�
She would spend the entirety of the anatomy and physiology lectures
trying to piece together the mystery of who had really killed Patrick Netherwood�and once class was done, she would begin her
sleuthing in earnest.�
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