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Message in a Bottle	By : sarcastrow Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1304 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Message in a Bottle

Chapter 3

Interrogation

“Good morning, Madam Parkinson,” Hugo said as he entered the kitchen.

Pansy turned to face him. “Good morning, Hugo,” she smirked. “Did you sleep well? I know it’s hard getting used to a new bed and a new room.” She set her bowl of Weetabix on the table.

Hugo recognized the barb. “I should ask you the same question.” He smiled, “After all, you spent a great deal of time in that room as well.” He laughed. “It’s not as if you actually slept in your room the last twenty-two years.”

“Conceded,” she said with a smile as she sat. Hugo appraised her for the hundredth time. Pansy Parkinson was still a pretty, if odd-looking, woman. As she had matured her face had become less flat, partially from her constant battle with weight, as she had a terrible time staying above a hundred pounds. Her war experience had left her with real issues. Because of that, her face was much thinner than it had been in her youth. The pug faced girl was long gone, physically, but Pansy Parkinson was still a force.

During the war Draco had rescued her, brought her to the manor, and she had never really left. After the war Draco had made sure she had her room and meals there. He had personally escorted her through the maze of interviews, examinations, and paperwork their side of the conflict had had to endure. When he was forced to court and then marry Astoria, he made his mother promise that Pansy could stay. After Draco’s marriage came apart, he moved back to the manor. Though he and Astoria never officially divorced, wizarding society knew everything.

The kettle started its whistle. “I’ll get the tea then,” he told her. As he poured the hot water into the pot and added the tea ball he asked, “You don’t mind, do you? I’m sure Scorpius would let you have that room for as long as you wanted it.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t sleep in there anymore; too many memories.”

“I hope they’re good ones.”

She smiled. “They are. Twenty-two years, Hugo. They were the best in my life, I’m glad we had them.”

“Thought of what you’ll do with the bequest?” he asked.

“No, Draco provided for me well over the years. I really didn’t need…” She looked at him with a curious expression. “You’re questioning me. I thought I wasn’t one of your suspects.”

“Oh, you’re not.” He shook his head and grinned. “I couldn’t imagine you killing Mr. Malfoy.”

Her face fell, and a tear streaked her cheek. “Nor could I, Hugo. Nor could I.”

I can spot a fake a mile off. No, I don’t suspect you at all, Madam, he thought. “I will find out who did. I promised Scorpius.” He put his hand on hers and smirked. “Adam Boot is a fine investigator, but he doesn’t have my resources or time. I’m keeping him informed of my findings, and the Auror corps will get the call when the case is solved.”He smirked

“You’re a good man, Hugo. I’m very happy for you and Scorpius.” Her smile was tempered by her sadness. “Shall I pour?”

“Sure.”

She filled his cup, then her own. “Would you like toast?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

Pansy flicked her wand over her shoulder. The bread bin opened, three slices of bread floated out, and then slid into the toasting rack on the stove. A second flick set the stove at a medium flame. She slid Hugo’s cup across the table to him.

Hugo took up his tea and sipped. “Thanks. We’re happy you’re staying, Madam. Scor confided in me that he… well, he thinks of you as a second mother.” He tilted his head and muttered, “And a much more likable one.”

Pansy snorted in her tea. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Hugo looked at her with a more serious expression. “Have you thought about what I asked last week?”

“There are so many, Hugo. When I tried to write out a list of people that might want to… to kill…” her voice hitched.

“It’s okay, Madam. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I have to move on. I have to help.” She drew a shaky breath. “I made a list, and it just kept growing.” She huffed. “His wife’s family, your family, the Potters, half our housemates, dozens of business associates. It got very long, very fast.”

“I went through the books last week,” he said, “I don’t think Mr. Malfoy had cheated anyone, or given them a reason to exact that degree of revenge, so I think we can sideline the business people.”

“Have you spoken with the remainders of the Crabbe and Goyle families?”

“There are no Crabbes younger than seventy, and Gregory Goyle was less than helpful,” Hugo answered. “But he’s such an idiot. He…”

Pansy laughed heartily. “Oh, Hugo, your gift for understatement is a good as your father’s.” She laughed and shook her head. “Greg… well, Draco always said if brains were dynamite he wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose.”

Hugo smiled. “I was going to be a bit kinder than that, but I’ll defer to your superior knowledge. Yeah, he doesn’t have the wits to get away with it even this long.”

“Someone smart, then?”

Hugo nodded. “Smart enough to defeat the tracing charms, leave no evidence of themselves and, most importantly, not set off the house wards. We still don’t really know how they actually killed him. It’s baffling.”

Pansy looked at him through her eyelashes. “You chatted with your mother?”

Hugo smiled slyly. “Yes, her alibi checks.” He eyed her. “And Dad’s.”

“Potter?”

“Uncle Harry too, he was very sad to hear, actually.”

“Yes, he had an appreciation for Draco of late.” She smiled at a memory. “He was here about four or five weeks ago, talking with Draco about the new Headmistress at Hogwarts.” She rolled her eyes. “Lavender Brown, who would have known?”

“I like her.”

She huffed. “You would, you’re male.”

“Umm…”

“That doesn’t matter, Hugo.” She patted his hand. “You are just as susceptible as any other man to her wolf pheromones.”

“Maybe.” He flicked his wand at the toast tray and the slices flipped themselves. “So you suspect Astoria?”

Pansy huffed. “Wouldn’t put it past the bitch.”

“Me either, but she was out of the country.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Yes, the Nepalese ministry confirms her presence at the council.”

“And the rest of them?” Pansy asked.

“I’m still checking the other three sister’s locations, but they didn’t seem to be unwilling to verify where they were.”

“All right,” she said. “How about Millicent and Marcus Flint?”

“Them? Really?”

Pansy sipped her tea and closed her eyes. “Millie was my best friend… until the middle of seventh year, when… HE… killed my parents, killed my brother, and then Draco saved me. I found out she thought Draco should have turned me over to Him. She and Marcus tried to ambush Draco, they tried to Imperius him. It didn’t work and Draco… well, it took Marcus a long time to… um… satisfy Millie again.” She smiled her wicked smile. “Millie likes her cock, and with Marcus incapacitated she was forced to make do with… alternatives.” She laughed and looked at Hugo. “They talk a good line, and are so very careful, but I know they still hold the old beliefs.”

“I’ll look into it.” Hugo looked over his tea at her. “How did Mr. Malfoy protect you from Riddle?”

“Draco asked him to spare me, and for some reason he did. I think it was another way for him to torture Draco. He probably wanted to have Draco kill me. I know he was planning to make him kill Luna.”

“Madam Scamander?”

“Yes, she and I were prisoners here, you know that.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Hugo said, nodding to himself.

“He’d never have done it, Hugo. Draco couldn’t kill anyone.” Pansy looked out the kitchen window into the distance. “I miss him so much.”

“I know.”

“He and I had the best conversations.” More tears fell. “All our lives… all our lives…”

Hugo flicked his wand at the toast. It flew from the toasting tray to the table. A second flick and the butter knife dipped into its dish and buttered the toast. She’s crying now anyway, he thought. Might as well. “I need to ask about the morning you found him.”

She nodded, and the tears didn’t stop.

“He was in the study?”

“Yes.” She sipped her tea.

“In his chair?” Hugo asked, and took a bite of his toast.

“No, he was on the floor by the pensieve cabinet.”

Hugo nodded. “Anything unusual about that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” She looked back to the window. “He was very judicious about storing the memories. Dating them just so, arranging them, keeping the catalogue…”

He started. “What catalogue?”

She looked back at him. “The little brown book in the cabinet, I’m sure Scorpius knows where it is.”

“He didn’t mention it.” He studied his tea. “I’d like to see it.” He looked back at her. “Now that you’ve had some time, is there anything that seemed out of place, anything different than normal?”

“No. It was just like any other day, really.” She smiled and a few more tears ran down her face. “We had a good laugh at breakfast. He had been getting a bit clumsy lately and he accidentally dropped most of the sugar bowl into my Weetabix.” She dabbed her cheeks with her kerchief and chuckled. “He said getting old was a bloody pain.”

“My dad says the same thing.”

Pansy smirked through the tears. “He’s aged well enough, your dad. Weasley men just get better looking the older they get. You’ve got good genes there, Hugo. Count yourself lucky.”

“Thanks, I’ll tell him you said that.”

She laid her hand on his, and her old mischievous grin lit her face. “Don’t you dare, and really don’t tell your mother, and especially don’t tell her that I think she’s the best minister we’ve had in our lives.”

He smiled warmly at Pansy. “Okay, I’ll keep all your compliments about my family to myself.”

She smiled through her tears. “Thanks. After all, I wouldn’t want to spoil their image of me.”

<<*>>

“Hi, Mum.”

Hermione kissed her son’s forehead. “Good morning, Hugo,” she said and walked back around her desk. As she sat in her chair, Hugo reflected on its past occupants. She had told him about Fudge, the incompetent fool who let Riddle rise to power through inattention and intentional ignorance. About Scrimgeour, who gave his life to protect his parents and uncle. About Thicknesse, still alive and in Azkaban, who cooperated with the Death Eaters and assisted in the murder of so many. She told him with great fondness about Kingsley Shacklebolt, her friend and mentor, and Alex Truman, her immediate predecessor, both of whom had groomed her for the position over the years. Now it was her office and her chair. It had been so for eight years and no one was inclined to see that change.

“What brings you to the ministry today, son?”

“Mr. Malfoy,” he said as he sat.

She smiled. “Current or past?”

“Past,” he smirked. “I wanted to talk with Boot about his investigation, and I need to see the effects that he’s collected.”

“I don’t see a problem there, Hugo. I’ll tell Parvati to get you the proper credentials so M.L.E. will let you in. Anything else?”

Hugo smirked. “Well, Madam Parkinson sends her regards.”

Hermione laughed. “Does she?” She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, Pansy. I never wished any of what happened on her.” She looked at her son. “Luna has told me quite a lot. How much do you know?”

“Not much. Just what I’ve read, what you, Dad, and Uncle Harry have told me, and Scorpius has told me a little; in fact, he’s showing me something tonight that concerns her.”

“Memories in a pensieve? From the war?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy’s.”

“When you see those memories, son, remember that she was very young. We all were… much too young.” That look floated across her face, the one that Hugo couldn’t fathom, the one that spoke of torture and loss.

“I’ll remember. Rose back from America yet?” he said attempting a subject change.

As he’d hoped, her mood lightened. “Yes, your world-traveling sister and her husband arrived at the Burrow just a few hours ago.” She laughed. “I’m still amazed they took five kids to California.”

“I’ve been telling you for years she’s a masochist. Marrying Adam Finnigan, and then having not one but two sets of twins. She’s barmy.”

His mother laughed. “And she has Seamus and Katie Finnigan as in-laws. Poor girl.”

He smiled. “Well, I’m glad she got the Burrow, it’s the only place big enough for that brood.”

“Yes, it is.” She put her glasses back on and looked over the top of them. “And speaking of that, are you and Scorpius joining the rest of the family there for dinner Sunday?”

“Yeah, I’m sure Scor will be happy to come. I don’t think he can resist Lily and Rose’s cooking.”

“Excellent.” She rose from her chair. “Thanks for coming by, Hugo. Your old mum needs her son to show her some love from time to time.”

He stood and hugged her. “I love you, Mum,” he said.

“I love you too, son. Now let’s get you sorted.” She walked him to her office door, opened it and addressed her assistant. “Parv, Hugo needs some materials from Boot. Could you see that he gets them?”

Parvati Goldstien smiled at her boss. “Sure. What do you need, Hugo?”
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Message in a Bottle