Chapter 6

Ah, Gentle Readers, unprecedented though it may be, This Author has been forced to eat Her words! Only a short fortnight ago, She reported that the incomparable Mrs. M----'s scandalous ways had ceased and that the lady in question seemed to have dedicated herself to her husband's care. Indeed, that may be true, as Mr. M---- has since made a full recovery and is now undoubtedly working doubly hard in the service of the esteemed Lord V---- to prove his loyalty. However, as her husband's mind is occupied by such noble pursuits, it seems that our divine Mrs. M---- has once again taken up with the ever dashing and darkly handsome Professor S----, Head of the most revered of Houses and Potions Master equaled by none...

-Gilda Grindylow's Society Papers, 22 November 1996

Lucius scowled into his half-empty glass of Firewhisky as the muted chatter of the Hog's Head patrons flowed around him. Narcissa had gone to Juliet Montague's coming out ball and left him alone with his thoughts, not to mention his imaginings at what she would no doubt be doing once she met up with Severus. Therefore, when Rodolphus and Rabastan had owled him, asking him to come for a drink, he had agreed far more readily than he otherwise would have done.

"Why the long face, Lucius, my boy? Not wishing you were back in Azkaban, are you?" Rabastan chuckled at his own weak joke.

"Ah, no, look at him. If you ask me, he's been reading that gossip column again," said Rodolphus jokingly and signaled to the bartender. "Another round, Abe, and then another. This one had better be good and drunk. If he can still Apparate by the time we leave, I'll hex you into next week."

"Never fear, gentlemen, never fear." Aberforth Dumbledore hobbled over to the table in the darkest, smokiest corner of the pub and poured out a large measure of Firewhisky, followed by snifters of his signature drink, the Wailing Werewolf, a strong, but noxious mix of elf-made wine, butterbeer, sherry, and gillywater. "Half the people leavin' this pub are taken up to the Ministry on AUI charges... most of 'em splinched so bad ye wouldn't recognize 'em."

Though unsure whether that was something that would give one cause to boast, Lucius nonetheless raised his glass silently and drank half of his already curdling Werewolf in one gulp. Morosely, he slammed it back onto the rough-hewn oak table and glared at the darkness pressing against the smudged, sooty windowpanes.

"Gods, Malfoy, I saw you more cheerful in Azkaban." Rodolphus slipped another shot of Firewhisky into his brother-in-law's drink. "You can't tell me that ridiculous Grindylow is getting to you."

"A grindylow?" queried Rabastan in confusion. "Has the Dark Lord got you diving underwater? Be sure you take some gillyweed."

"No, you dolt, not a real grindylow. It's a gossip columnist that our wives read more greedily than Nifflers in a gold mine." Lucius spoke for the first time. "I'd advise you to stay a bachelor, Rabastan; it's much easier on the nerves."

"Wish I could, Malfoy, but my brother here hasn't yet seen fit to reproduce. Leaves me little choice in the matter, what with the estate and all."

"Well, get to it, Lestrange." Lucius gave a hollow chuckle. "But you're better off marrying some innocent fresh out of Hogwarts, preferably one who has never heard of Gilda Grindylow."

Snorting into his mulled mead, Rodolphus muttered, "Fat chance of that. Even Bella's caught up in it all. Following the story about Cissy, she is. Having an affair with Severus Snape, or so they say. Is it true, then?"

Lucius merely gave him a dark look and snapped morosely, "I'd rather not have to duel with my own brother-in-law." Abruptly, he stood, continuing, "So don't presume to question my wife's honor or so much as mention her name in this filthy place, or there will be hell to pay. The name of Malfoy is worth much more than that of Lestrange." Sweeping his traveling cloak behind him, Lucius stalked toward the door and Apparated.

* * *

"Well?" snapped Bella, sneering at her husband and brother-in-law when they appeared in her sitting room. "How did it go? Which one of you Apparated him? He'd better have been damned near unconscious by the time you got him back to Wiltshire."

Rodolphus stepped forward timidly. "Erm, well, actually, Bella, my darling wife, neither of us Apparated him... It wasn't entirely necessary, you see."

"No, I don't see. If you'd done what I told you, he'd have left his legs behind at the Hog's Head. What in the name of the Dark Lord Voldemort happened?"

The two men flinched visibly. "Now, now, Bella, you needn't take the Dark Lord's name in vain! The situation was under control," spoke up Rabastan, "until my half-witted brother here went and insulted the man's wife."

Glowering, Bella said in a low, deadly voice, "Watch who you're calling a half-wit, Three-O.W.L. Lestrange. And as for you, Rodolphus, what exactly did you say about my sister?"

"Nothing, dearest, nothing... " The cowering Death Eater took a few steps back. "I just mentioned that thing about her and Snape in that gossip column, and... "

"Malfoy almost challenged him!" Rabastan cut in excitedly. "It was a very near thing indeed, Bellatrix."

"Challenged him!" shouted Bella, delight immediately overtaking the scorn on her haughty face. "Oh, that's bloody brilliant! Gods, this is working even better than I expected. A challenge is far better progress than some drunken profession of love," she added under her breath and then, continuing in a normal tone, addressed her husband once again, "so he seemed in a sour mood, did he? Well, good. That's all he deserves for now, the wretch. Toying with my poor sister's affections like that! Well, I'll show him what happens to those who snub the sisters Black."

* * *

"Hush, Severus, we shall wake the house-elves!" whispered Narcissa desperately as Snape's heavy boot steps crossed the floor of the stone balcony outside her bedchamber. "Hurry up and get inside."

With a low chuckle, Snape moved deftly across the room and murmured, "Ah, now, if had a Sickle for every time I heard you say that... why, I'd be nearly as rich as Malfoy!" He sniggered mirthlessly.

"You're a bastard. What we're doing is horrible, Severus. I do love my husband."

"So we've heard. And horrible, you say? Hmm, your shrieks of pleasure have always seemed quite genuine, and although I quite take your meaning, I can assure you as the legitimacy of my birth," he said flippantly when he reached the large four-poster on the wall opposite the windows.

"Low as it may be," muttered Narcissa, pointedly ignoring his other comments. "Now, are you positive Lucius went out?"

"Yes, Mrs. Lestrange told me that he was going for a drink with her husband. No need to worry for now, though he could certainly Apparate back to his room at any time."

Narcissa scowled. "Don't be silly. You can only Apparate from the manor, not into it."

"Hence my climbing your balcony like some Muggle teenager. Though I must say, it was good of Bellatrix to arrange all this. Even better of her to change your mind about me." Snape grinned wolfishly as he quickly shed his robe and dived under the blankets with Mrs. Malfoy.

* * *

With a contented sigh, Bella leaned back into the plush silver pillows and pulled the deep green velvet counterpane more tightly around her wiry frame.

"It was really quite brilliant the way you angered Lucius enough to issue a challenge. I vow, I'd never even thought of that myself! The only problem is that it's better that he challenge Severus, not you."

Rodolphus chuckled. "Indeed. But I wouldn't call it brilliance on my part. I merely played the jovial idiot, as usual, and wound up insulting his wife. Fortunately, it worked, because Lucius is possessed of a rather strong constitution and doesn't intoxicate easily. We'd still be there and out half the family fortune in Firewhisky if we'd gone with the original plan."

"Yes." Hesitantly, Bella agreed, not wanting to disparage her own idea. "I confess, I did not know that, but how could I have? Imagine! A lady in the Hog's Head! Gilda Grindylow would have a field day."

"I don't imagine she would, Bella," Rodolphus teased gently. "Not many of our wives become Death Eaters in their own right, either."

With a modest shrug, she quickly resumed their earlier conversation. "Lucius Malfoy deserted the cause when our master's powers were weakened, lost us the prophecy, got the Dark Lord's diary destroyed, and now he's tormenting my sister!"

"It's hard to know which is worst," Rodolphus put in dryly. "Surely not the lost prophecy?"

"Perhaps, but this is personal. So anyhow, I've arranged a tryst between Cissy and Snape tonight. With any luck, Lucius will come stumbling in just as Snape is skulking out."

"Forgive me, Bella." Twisting to face his wife, Rodolphus furrowed his brow and continued, "But did you only choose Snape because he's an old friend of Lucius'? I don't know how far that will go, considering that man's questionable loyalties. Mightn't you have chosen some bloke from our crowd? I can hardly imagine Narcissa lying with a possible blood traitor."

Narrowing her eyes, Bella spat, "Well, you're not supposed to go around imagining it! Besides, I didn't select him; Narcissa did. If you read the papers, you'd realize that... "

"That I don't consider Gilda Grindylow's Society Papers a legitimate newspaper?"

Ignoring him, Bella went on. "That Narcissa and he had been carrying on an affair since the summer, until Lucius found out. She loves Malfoy, as she told him at Azkaban, which is why she and her little Dracling left so quickly. Therefore, she broke off her connection with Snape. Lucius was pleased about that, not because of any tender feelings he might have acknowledged for his wife, but because he was obeyed."

"Hmm... and now you think he's in love with her and just won't admit it?"

"Whether he is or he isn't right now is most certainly not my problem. What I'm saying is he will be after I'm done with him."

With a low snicker, Rodolphus waved the wand on his bedside table, extinguishing the lamp, and lay down. "Very clever, Bella. However, I shall see if I cannot persuade the Dark Lord to give you more challenging tasks. You must not have enough to do, as you sound like the meddlesome wenches in Muggle romance novels. At the very least, we're going to have to get you pregnant."

"What?" squawked Bella indignantly, prodding her husband's shoulder. However, he had conveniently taken a Sleeping Draught and was already snoring away. "Bastard!"

* * *

Contrary to Bella's belief, Lucius did in fact become quite drunk that evening. Upon returning to the manor after the debacle at the Hog's Head, he continued with the Firewhisky well nigh until dawn when he heard the hoof beats of a horse clattering down the lane.

Muggles? What on earth are they doing by the manor? They can't even see the place unless they're told it's here! Lucius stumbled to the window and saw through his blurred vision a sleek black gelding cantering away, carrying none other than Severus Snape. Damned wife-stealing blood traitor... what the hell's the matter with thestrals?

"Tubby!" he slurred. "Tubby, get your worthless ass into my study!"

With a loud crack, the house-elf appeared before him. "Master, you is drunk! Is you so disappointed with Tubby, sir? It were the burned pudding, weren't it? Oh, Tubby is a bad elf! Bad Tubby, bad, bad, bad, bad... " The aggrieved elf began to dash its head repeatedly against a shiny black vanishing cabinet.

"Tubby!"

"Bad, bad, bad, bad!"

Snarling, Lucius gave the elf a sharp rap upon the head with the business end of his highly polished cane. "That's enough, elf."

Rubbing his head forlornly, he mewled, "Tubby deserved that, Master. He is sorry now for being a bad elf. Bad, bad, bad, bad... "

"Elf!"

"BAD, BAD, BAD!!!" Dents appeared in the formerly priceless cupboard.

Even in his intoxicated state, Lucius was able to tear the black leather glove from his hand with alacrity. "Do you want this, elf?"

"NO! Not clothes, Master, please! Kill Tubby instead! Master Draco always gives death threats to Tubby! Better than clothes, much better."

"I would like to retire for now." Lucius opened his eyes with effort, though to him the room was spinning out of control.

"Yes, Master, yes. Right away!" Tubby magicked his master up the small staircase in the back of the study that led straight to Lucius' bedchamber.

Unfortunately, Lucius was only blessed with a few hours sleep until he awoke at noontide with a brutal hangover and in an even fouler mood. The bright sunlight danced across the room, wriggling its way between the gaps in the bed hangings and searing his bloodshot eyes. His head felt as though a herd of hippogriffs had stampeded across it, pounding him with their hooves and sending their sharp claws deep into his fragile skull. As for the rest of him, well, he rather would have preferred the Dark Lord's punishments to the agonizing sensations in his tired bones.

"Lucius?" A faint whisper sounded from the corner of his room, near the door that connected it to Narcissa's. "Are you awake?" Soft footsteps, only discernible to his overly sensitive ears, made their way toward the bed. Wearing a simply cut gown of the softest bottle green wool, she cautiously settled down next to him, brushing the matted hair from his eyes.

"Cissa," he mumbled with some effort, still not fully coherent, "Cissa." Slowly, he raised his arms, still clad in his evening robes, and wrapped them around her waist, drawing her close and burying his face in the folds of skirt at her hip. As Narcissa stroked his hair, he promptly fell asleep once more.