20

Chapter 20: Loyalties

She was beautiful once, with black hair, full lips, and blazing black eyes. She was loved once by a man, who was handsome as well as wealthy, and used to reside within a lovely little estate with millions of little house-elves who catered to her every whim. At least, this was what she thought.

Now, undeniably, she lay decrepit, heavy lids graying over, hair frizzing wildly and unkempt, nails gnawed, teeth yellowed, hands and arms shaking, throat dry, cracked...Or maybe she was always like this? Hiding just beneath the surface?

Her eyes darted around, though there were no visitors, nor would there ever be, and she shuddered as a dementor came just a bit too close, reaching in a ghastly hand and grabbing at the air, in a motion very similar to choking...

"Just you wait till I get my wand and I'll blast you to bits!" Bellatrix ground out, barring her teeth and standing up in her rags. She had no wand, yet kept a hand out in front of her as if force of habit.

"Oh shut it will you, Bella? We're dead!" Junior groaned, and a sound like clanging metal beat against their joint wall. "My mother was our only hope! And now she's dead! She waited too damn long! NO! HE waited too damn long!"

"You relied on others and they failed! What else is new?" Bella screeched, creeping forward towards the dementor where it was still grasping at the air. "You stupid creature! I'll kill YOU!"

Hasan sighed as he slithered up the wall and into the prison corridor. His body was no shorter than an average worm, yet he did not inch, he slithered. The moans of insane prisoners, pleads for death, and nonsensical babbling filled the cold island with dread that pierced the thickest of wills. Hasan found it seeping into him, from the walls and from the sounds! He slid on, passing unnoticed beneath the familiar shapes of the dementors. He slid on, and on, and on...cells streaming past in blurs of hideous faces and myriad bars. So much magic was locked within these confines...so much hate. He sighed, relaxed, as the feelings swirled within him.

Hasan flicked his tongue in and out, tasting for Bellatrix Lestrange like a radar. He would have to be subtle until the strike...as he reached another intersection, more scents joined the first, less strong, but evident. There was no way of describing it, just that they were his. They called out to him always, and Hasan knew he would have come sooner if not for last year's delay. And what a delay it had been...

For the past year Hasan had been surviving, slowly building up what little he could salvage before facing anyone, whether it was friend or foe. He turned into the very next corridor, hit all at once with the scents of his own. Dementors floated down the hall, feasting off the frivolous ideas that his followers had, (for surely they couldn't have happy thoughts). One was even reaching its hand into a cell and swiping at the air.

Hasan smiled and shifted his skin, feeling the scaly armor flow off of him like a layer of water, revealing naught but a little man. They could not see him yet, for he was not in view, but they would see and they would know who had saved them. He stepped forward and muttered a stream of Latin that obliterated the dementors into sand.

Bellatrix was the first to realize their absence and rushed to the bars, cackling madly. She did not expect much more than a guard with a bowl of slush, or perhaps a Ministry official come for off-the-record interrogations. When her eyes had dashed across what little she could see from her cell, she let out a blood curdling shriek of delight.

"MY LORD! MY LORD!"

Instantly, the others were up, Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange. They woke fully to the sound of Junior's cruel taunt.

"Finally gone mad have, ya?" Junior sneered.

Hasan let Bella look her full before he walked slowly down the hall. Gasps echoed from both sides, ever accompanied by Bella's shrieks of insane pleasure. Hasan smirked, bare feet brushing through the dementor sand, black cloak swishing against his short, frail, body, no more than a trace of his former glory...

"Confringo!"

The entire corridor illuminated with light, walls blasting apart, shattering from the mere power stored behind the word, Bellatrix's laughter..."My Lord! My Lord! My Lord!"

.oOo.

Hasan started, chest heaving as if all his magic had been compressed and blasted out. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his hands shook with the magical residue.

The dementors! Azkaban! He fruitlessly tried to get up, but his legs became entangled in the smooth sheet, sending him toppling to the ground.

It was then that Hasan realized that he was nowhere near Azkaban, that he no longer possessed scales, and that he was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He glanced around the white infirmary, spotting Draco fast asleep in the bed beside him. Uh! His head! What had happened? Where was Neville? Where was Luna? And what the hell had he just seen?

One thing at a time.

Hasan steadied his breath and rearranged himself back onto the bed. The last thing he remembered was getting hit with a stunner, sometime after Neville was confounded... Suddenly, the doors of the Hospital Wing burst open, revealing the headmaster in somber blue robes and a tall, pale man with a weary, pale face. This man was Lucius Malfoy, though one wouldn't believe it right away. His cheeks were sallow, forehead wrinkled, blond hair thinning into a seedy silver sheet.

Hasan didn't have time to lean back and feign sleep, so he simply stared. And amazingly, the two stared back.

"Mr. Castell." Dumbledore said not unkindly, blue eyes twinkling behind those half-moon spectacles, "How are you feeling?" His voice was strained, as if he had just run a long time, or had been shouting.

Lucius' eyes, previously trained on his knocked-out son, were now appraising Hasan with sharp grey eyes. Something flickered in their depths, but Hasan couldn't it be, it was so quick.

Hasan bit his lip and assessed himself, not feeling remotely as hurt as he had predicted.

"I feel fine."

The headmaster nodded slowly before turning to Draco's unconscious form.

"And he?"

"Draco's asleep."

"Oh, of course." Albus said absently, "Well I've other matters to attend. Neville Longbottom, for instance-"

Lucius cleared his throat.

"Er- oh yes, you may remain with your son- Poppy? Can you come here to assist Mr. Malfoy?" Albus quickly tacked on.

"I assure you, I can handle myself quite well, thank you." Lucius sneered, not having lost any of his verbal touch.

"Poppy!" Albus called just a little louder with a hint of panic. When the matron finally bustled out from her office, Albus gave a placating smile that did not quite meet his eyes, and strode over to a bed surrounded by room dividers. (Poppy, seeing that there was no reason for her to be there, returned to her office.)

Hasan kept the headmaster in his peripheral vision at all times, but allowed Malfoy Sr. to occupy his current attention. To put it politely, the man looked terrible (as terrible as a Malfoy could look), and Hasan had to wonder why. Weren't the Malfoy's rolling in Galleons? What could possibly vex a family so rich and powerful? Except, perhaps, the man was worried about his son? Hmm.

"Mr. Castell." Lucius nodded curtly.

"Lord Malfoy." Hasan countered.

"Please, Narcissa insists that you call me Lucius." he bit out.

Hasan smiled lightly, "I suppose you may call me Hasan. After all, Draco has given me your family dagger."

"How could I forget?" Lucius said sardonically. "A Castell owning a Malfoy dagger..."

Hasan frowned: There was no reason for the man to hate him, Hasan, personally. Yet his tone suggested an overall dislike towards the Castell name. Hasan couldn't help but see the parallel between Snape's irrational dislike towards the Potter name, and wondered briefly if Altair had known this man during his time at Hogwarts. The idea had never occurred to him, but now...didn't it make sense?

"Have you known another Castell?" Hasan asked bluntly, watching the man like a hawk.

Lucius seemed to hesitate, "I don't recall ever meeting another Castell." Lucius confessed bitterly, "Yet I am positive one of them is haunting me now."

"Oh." What was there left to say?

"But you can tell your mentor-" Lucius continued with a slight edge,-"That I will do everything in my power for my family." He looked sadly to Draco, "My family means the world to me."

Oddly, the threat smoothed away to genuine affection, and Hasan was left as confused as ever. Tell his mentor? Why would Altair need to know anything? And if they had never met, why did it seem as if they had? Unless...Lucius was lying?

And then Hasan remembered as if a spark shot through him: The Blood Book and the Dementors...the clarity was startling, but why? Surely the conclusion was always this obvious to reach? L.A.M. was Lucius and A.D.C. was Altair- he had known this.

So why did he feel as if Lucius was not lying? Why did it feel like Lucius was telling the truth and he had never met Altair before in his life?

Was an obliviate involved? Were there memories...the memories! Hasan blinked his dull jade eyes, desperate to express his triumph in some way. Fortunately, Lucius was busy staring at his son to pay much attention to Hasan's facial changes. Which was good, Hasan supposed, for he was in a state of confusion, and therefore of vulnerability. How was he to corroborate his suspicions?

Were there more memories inside his head? And if Lucius had indeed been obliviated by Altair, had Hasan been obliviated too? Or perhaps, would Hasan be obliviated if he later asked Altair if his suspicions were true?

No. Direct confrontation was not an option. Just another secret to the load...just one more, Hasan thought dejectedly.

At his right, Draco gave a sudden gasp of breath and Lucius nearly sighed out in relief.

"Draco, Draco, Draco..." Lucius murmured warmly, gathering the boy up in his arms.

"Wha-?" Draco blurted, apparently too shocked for words. "Father? What are you-? Where am I? Wait, no! Get away! He might still be inside m-!"

"Draco?" Lucius questioned, keeping his voice calm even as his muscles tensed for action.

But Hasan was faster, "Neville has saved us." (Or more specifically, Neville had saved him from suspicion.)

"Oh, I-!" Draco turned his head to Hasan, blond hair sticking out at odd angles. His silver eyes were positively bursting with emotion, more feeling than he had ever shown. Joy, confusion, guilt, anger, remorse. "I'm- Hasan, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean-!"

Lucius looked bewilderedly between the friends, trying in vain to follow the unsaid story.

"All is done." Hasan said in a tone that suggested he had better be quiet. Draco in his hysteria, however, crumbled in tears, muttering incoherently. Tom Riddle had been inside his head, controlling him. Using his mouth to give orders to the Basilisk, poisoning his mind with thoughts of betrayal. Was he gone? Was Draco free? Or was Tom Riddle lying dormant in his soul this very instant? Was it latent as it was in the diary? Waiting for the opportune moment to strike?

Lucius continued to hold his son, clearly puzzled. A Malfoy apologizing to a Castell? Clearly there was more to the story than the letter suggested.

When Draco had finally regained some composure, he whispered, "I'm sorry I took the books...the diary."

Lucius stiffened, remembering a certain request from one Altair Castell. The diary. He shoved it from his mind, determined to think of it later.

It was at that moment that the doors parted again, gently so that no sound escaped, letting in the Potions Master.

.oOo.

(1 Hour Previous)

Narcissa flicked her wand in the direction of the kitchen, causing the various pots and pans to start scrubbing themselves with unnecessary vigor. She had just finished breakfast with her husband, a quiet affair, in which neither said little more than the proper how do you do?

Lucius sat at the table, staring off into space with one hand riffling through his thin hair. He was becoming increasingly quiet by the day, freezing her out, and shoving her off with her friends. Of course, she was always the one to create the arrangements, but he had not once protested at her increasing absences. To say it was unusual was an understatement. Though they did not share a bed, presenting a united front was a Malfoy priority, and lately, Lucius was sorely neglecting it.

And why? Why did he freeze her out like this? Was he seeing another woman on the side? Was he simply falling out of love? She had to know! It was her right! Why could he go dallying around when she was practically chained to the man through marriage? Didn't she at least deserve to know who it was that stole his heart?

"Lucius?" she asked, eyes narrowing sharply. "Do you love me?"

Lucius was immediately shocked out of his reverie, even spilling his coffee onto the table. Narcissa spelled it away.

"Love you?" Lucius repeated slowly, not comprehending.

"Yes, Lucius! LOVE!" Narcissa screamed. "Or do you not know the meaning of love! Perhaps you have found it somewhere else or forgotten it all together!"

Lucius' mouth worked vainly to form the words. "I- Narcissa- Ciss-!"

"No! I don't want to hear your excuses! It's fine alright? I see the owls! I notice how you don't look at me in that way anymore and how you always hole yourself up in your room!-"

"CISSA!" Lucius yelled, relieved and panicked all at once. "I love you, I do! I love you!"

But strangely, it sounded wrong in his own ears...he had the most ludicrous dream the other night where he whispered those three magic words in the ear of another. And now, repeating them to Narcissa rang so false and artificial. Narcissa seemed to pick up on this as well, for her face scrunched up in grief.

"It's fine, you know! You've got an heir and what am I?" Narcissa cried, voice cracking, "I don't mind it! But you could at least tell me who he is!"

"H-he?" Lucius wondered.

Soft locks, satin sheets, another body pressed up against his own...lungs breathing as one.

"Oh- no- I-" Narcissa sobbed, "Oh! Just forget about it! I meant she! I meant she! Oh, but what does it matter? I saw the owls! I know that Dobby's off helping your mistress!"

"Narcissa, please!" Lucius begged, "I didn't- I'm not seeing anyone!"

Narcissa quieted and shivered with grief.

"Don't lie to me." she whispered.

"And Dobby, he-" Lucius started as he realized that he had no good story for Dobby yet.

"I said DON'T LIE TO ME!" Narcissa bellowed. "I don't care! Just admit it! You don't love me anymore! You write love notes to your mistress and she replies at midnight or when you think I have left!"

Lucius swallowed. He hadn't believed he had been so transparent. And what was worse? A mistress or Altair? Should he tell her the truth? He hesitated and knew instantly that he could not. She didn't deserve this suffering; he could handle Altair himself.

"Narcissa, please, I'm sorry-!" Lucius begged...just as a letter came zipping in from the window. Their eyes met and she raised an eyebrow in disgust.

"I won't have my husband lying to me!" Narcissa shrieked. She reached for the letter, but Lucius was faster. He grasped her small white wrist and lunged, just as she twisted around, blocking him with her body and reaching with her other hand. The two scrambled over each other in vain attempts to capture the fluttering envelope, but neither succeeding in subduing the other for long.

Finally, after much struggle, Lucius tore the envelope from the air, determined to burn it and request another, when it came flying out of his hand! Narcissa smiled triumphantly, in a twisted sort of way, wand outstretched in front of her. Lucius had not the time to draw his own wand to summon it back, before his wife had torn it open, and with it, his life. He was a dead man! He was a dead man!

Surely she would hate him. Surely she would accuse him of keeping more secrets and not trusting her! Lucius was done for! He watched her, as if in slow motion, extract the parchment and unfold it. He watched her sky blue irises dart across the page and her tearstained face morph into an expression of horror. Lucius was damned. Damned. Damned...

"It's Draco."

Lucius' mind began to function again.

"It's Draco!" Narcissa repeated softly, tears welling in her eyes. "He's been hurt! Come, look! Oh, Draco! My poor baby!"

She proffered the letter with a shaking grip, biting back her moans of agony.

Tentatively, Lucius took the note and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,

I am writing to inform you of a terrible accident which has occurred late last night. Three students, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, and Hasan Castell were found stunned in the hallway early this morning. The cause is uncertain. All three are currently resting in the Hospital Wing.

You are welcome to visit your child in the healing process,

Albus Dumbledore

Lucius was shaking now too. Hasan Castell had to have had a hand in this, and what about the Boy-Who-Lived? His marriage! His child! Everything was crumbling...

A slim body pressed against his suddenly, tears dripping onto the shoulder of his cloak.

"Oh, Lucius! I'm so scared! What if he's hurt? I have to g-go and see him!"

"Cissa- I, Cissa, I love you." Lucius murmured. "I don't know what's gotten into me, but I assure you I'm not seeing anyone." He took her white cheeks between his palms. "Cissa, look at me. I love you. Only you."

Narcissa wept into his good robes, holding him around the middle for dear life. She reached forward to give him a kiss, when suddenly he jerked away from her, hissing as he clutched his forearm.

Her eyes widened. "Lucius? Lucius? Are you okay? What's wrong? It's- It can't be!"

Lucius' face screwed up in pain as he fell heavily into the kitchen chair, gritting his teeth for all it was worth.

"Oh! Ice! Ice! Dobby! Get ice!"

The little house-elf appeared sometime during his daze, and a cold pack of ice cubes was pressed to his arm. Pain, so sharp and intense ripped through his veins, without any reason at all.

"Lucius! Are you alright! Say something! It's your mark- It's inflamed!"

Lucius cracked open an eyelid and glanced at his arm, where indeed the mark had turned black with a blue bruise around it. His heart plunged below to the lowest pit of hell. It could not be. It could NOT be. But somehow...somehow...

"He's back." Lucius whispered hoarsely, "There's no other explanation. He's back."

"Oh!" Narcissa cried, head in hands.

"Oh! Poor Lucius and Cissa!" Dobby wailed, not sure what to do.

"I thought we were free. I thought it was over..." Lucius murmured to himself, breathing steadily as the pain went down. "I am so glad you are not marked, Narcissa." he said tiredly. "Because then you'd have to suffer every much as me."

"Oh, Lucius! Don't! You don't deserve this! Draco doesn't deserve this! Oh, this is terrible!" Narcissa cried. "He'll go after Draco- I know it! He'll try and gather as many as possible! Not my baby!"

Lucius cleared his throat uncomfortably. There was no way around it this time.

"Cissa...?" he ventured slowly. "I think we'd be lucky to even last that long."

"W-why?" she asked, blue eyes lifting to his. "Haven't we served him loyally? There would be no reason..."

"Cissa, I am truly sorry but I fear I must have replaced a valuable artifact"- or two, or three- "and despite my best intentions I feel that he won't be so understanding."

"So that's it then." Narcissa whispered. "That's it- we're dead. We're dead. Oh, no, don't blame yourself, Lucius. We knew either path was dangerous. Just a slip, ill-intentioned or not, could have ended any one of us. It just happens to be now."

Lucius swallowed down his guilt. He had condemned his family, hadn't he? There was nothing they could do now...except...maybe?

"I'll go to Dumbledore."

"W-what?"

"I'll ask Dumbledore for his protection- Merlin knows it's saved Snape's hide all these years." he swallowed again. "It's the only way to save us all."

Narcissa nodded solemnly. "I think...I think that's all we can do..." A hand shot out to grasp his arm as he made to move towards the door. "You mean, right now?"

Lucius nodded. "It wouldn't help Draco's recovery any if he saw his mother in tears."

"Oh, I nearly forgot..." she smiled pitifully. "Yes, I see now. Go talk to Dumbledore and make sure our Dragon's alright...and perhaps that Hasan Castell. He is family, you know."

Lucius' mouth quirked up in a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Narcissa. With a little help, I'm sure we'll get through this."

He shook off her hand gently and bent down to kiss her on the lips.

"We'll get through this, I promise."

With that, he grabbed his wand and strode out the door, leaving behind his hopeful wife, much too good for him. He walked down the lane, passing bright white peacocks, and apparated just past the front gate.

Narcissa watched him leave, teary eyes following his every move. Her life was on the scales. Could nothing be simple?

She sighed deeply and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief Dobby had given her.

"It's going to be alright." Dobby said, shuffling his sock covered feet, before snapping his fingers and vanishing.

And just at that moment...a tiny black owl came rapping at her door.

.oOo.

Lucius arrived somewhere outside the Forbidden Forest, face marred by distress, heart thumping wearily. Yet he still found it in him to glare at some thestrals who were creeping along the purlieus, causing them to snort their great skeletal noses and retreat into the darkness. It did not matter that tears stained his robes or that he was all but running to the castle; all that mattered was that he see Dumbledore and see Draco. So little time...faster! Faster! Malfoy pride flew out the door.

He wondered absently if Severus could help him gain the old coot's favor. Perhaps there was a trick to it? Did he have to beg? Lucius hoped not- but what choice did he have? He continued to run.

By the time his best shoes had struck actual stone, he was out of breath and desperately trying to retain whatever dignity he had left. The castle doors were tall, so extremely tall, and nostalgia punched him in the gut: Remember when you were a child? Do you remember when everything was simple?

Well, the answer was: No, I bloody hell do not because Altair messed with my head!

He sighed and pushed open the doors, though he was positive that they had opened of their own accord. He knew deep down that Hogwarts was welcoming him home, as she did all her wayward children. Did he feel touched? Warmed? There was no time for thought.

Lucius prowled through the empty halls, wondering if all the children had some sort of holiday he did not know about. Or maybe they had sensed his presence and ran to the darkest crevices of their rooms, terrified and not knowing why. He did not notice when he had reached the headmaster's office until he was face to face with the stout old gargoyle. Oh! Merlin! Just great! Lovely!

"Acid pops! Chocolate frogs! Cockroach clusters!" There were no words to express how silly he felt. He was crying nonsense to the wind. "Lemon drops! Oh for the love of-"

"I hope I'm not too terribly late, am I?" a grandfatherly voice asked from behind. Lucius whipped around: There was Dumbledore in all his blue robed glory, looking for all the world as if he had just come back from a relaxing stroll of daisy smelling.

"I-Excuse me." Lucius muttered quietly, relieved and so embarrassed.

Dumbledore just stared down at him with a kind smile. "No, excuse me. The password is: Lacrimosa."

Lucius nodded numbly as the gargoyle hopped aside and the staircase twirled upwards, leading to a type of magical sanctuary.

"Come in, my boy. Follow me." Albus said warmly, striding past Malfoy and starting up the stairs. "I had a feeling you would come."

Oh...Lucius followed as bid albeit uncomfortably, emerging into the office with caution. No matter what his intentions, he was still technically in enemy territory, and he, an enemy of his host. He would have to tread carefully, very carefully. The old man leaned against his desk and cocked his head, eyes twinkling expectantly.

Lucius swallowed. How in Salazar's name had Severus started this? Should he drop down and beg? No! Malfoy's did not beg! What then? He was already humiliated enough! What then?

"How did you know?" Lucius finally asked, giving an involuntary shake of his left arm.

Albus eyed it with pity. "I? I was informed by Professor Snape. He has remarkable foresight."

"So he really is a spy for the light." Lucius murmured. "I've had my doubts the same as everybody else, but now I see...I need your help." he blurted.

Albus appeared unfazed. "Why can't you go to your Master for help? I'm sure he would oblige his loyal followers."

Lucius ground his teeth. Was the man truly this thick? The Dark Lord did not know the meaning of 'Loyal' and he certainly didn't 'oblige'.

"He does not give favors." Lucius bit out. "I need help to protect my family. My family, Dumbledore! Surely you would not deny a father protection for his family!"

The old wizard stroked his long white beard and shook his head. "If only it were that simple." He raised his ice blue eyes and looked straight into Malfoy's pale face. "I already have Severus. Why would I need another spy? And besides, Voldemort cannot truly be back, can he? As his right hand man, surely you would have attended to him by now."

Lucius took a step forward, enraged and desperate beyond belief. "Albus! I am begging you! I have gold! You can have it all! I'll take care of myself! Just hide them, if nothing else, if-if anything at all, please just protect my wife and son!"

There was that damnable twinkle, brightly flickering behind pale eyes. Albus suddenly turned to his phoenix, a bird Lucius swore was not there before, and began to trill in high musical pitches.

Oh, Merlin! The man was barmy! He was asking a lunatic! They were dead! Lucius was a dead man and he had condemned everyone along with him!

The trilling continued for another five minutes, ending in a great fluttering of red wings. The phoenix fixed him with a beady stare.

"Lucius Malfoy, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to stop Voldemort no matter the cost?"

Lucius froze. Did that mean-? Dumbledore was serious. To stop Voldemort no matter the cost...What would he give to see his wife and son live free?

"I thought you had no need for another spy." Lucius couldn't help but reply bitterly.

Albus tilted his head. "No, no we don't. But we could certainly use another Order member. I happen to remember a certain House-elf named Dobby who was quite adamant that you had the very best insight into the Dark Lord's mentality. I can think of a number of ways in which this information can be put to good use."

Lucius gaped. Dobby had been...here? Petitioning for him? Wait...why didn't he just ask Dobby to apparate him? He shoved his annoyance beneath his hope.

"I know certain things that even Severus doesn't know." Which was partly true, seeing as Altair had apparently removed those memories.

"Oh, I'm sure of it." Dumbledore said jovially. "Now do we have a deal, Mr. Malfoy?"

"My word for my family's protection?"

"Yes." Dumbledore beamed. "That's all I ask."

There wasn't a choice. "Then I give you my word."

Albus seemed to sigh out in relief, and a breath Lucius had not been aware he had been holding was released.

"Good. Very good. I shall introduce you at the next Order Meeting...although I'm not sure how some people will take the news. People still haven't truly gotten over Severus."

Lucius nodded, feeling light in the head. Even when he sided with the Light, he was unwelcomed. Peace never did seem to run in the Malfoy family. Why Draco was-

"My son?" Lucius asked faintly, suddenly remembering the primary reason for his visit. "What happened?"

"Well, that seems to be the problem, doesn't it?" Albus replied pleasantly, started to pace across the great room, blue robes trailing behind him.

"You mean you don't know?" Lucius repeated in disbelief, having that lovely experience of realizing something very obvious. If Albus was unable to even protect those inside the castle, then how in hell was he going to protect his family?

"Oh, I'm sure I know." Albus said cryptically, "But your guess is as good as mine as to how it came to be. Two students found Neville, Mr. Castell and your son all stunned outside the girl's bathroom, with no evidence but bloody clothes, the Sorting hat, and a most peculiar diary."

Lucius swallowed.

"Yes, it was most unusual with no ink whatsoever. I wonder who could've given it to them." His frosty eyes blinked away tears. "To think I could have lost him...Well, let's go down, shall we?"

.oOo.

Narcissa stared. There was a black owl rapping at her door. An owl with a letter. Uncontainable fury rose within her. That bastard had lied! Had LIED! A vase shattered nearby, sending shards of glass and water everywhere. There was a lover...there were owls, she had not imagined them. Without hesitating, she let the poor little creature inside, where it flapped its merry way inside her home. It held but a single letter, a scrolled up piece of parchment with a ruby red ribbon tied in a bow. She felt like Pandora, her hands touching what her eyes did not yet know. But there was no thought in her movements as the ribbon fluttered to the floor.

Was it someone she knew? Or perhaps some foreign witch he had met by some dubious means? How far along was their relationship? Did they mention her? Was she a secret? Or perhaps "that other woman"? Did she dare break her own heart? There were no thoughts.

Her nimble fingers began to carefully unwrap the message, her heart pounding in her throat. It seemed her world had gone topsy-turvy: first Draco, then the Dark Lord, and now Lucius. There wasn't any anchor she could grasp anymore. What was normal? What was stable?

Her sky blue eyes dashed across the page, freezing at the top as a distressed whine rose in her throat.

"Narcissa,"

There at the top was her name, written in elegant script with no indication of the letter being for anyone else. She frowned at this new puzzle, her brows furrowing on her pale face as she glanced quickly towards the door. The timing had been perfect...was someone watching her right now? Or was it simply a coincidence?

She shivered involuntarily and read:

"Narcissa,

My deepest apologies for all you have suffered because of me. I sense a growing distance between you and your husband, and yet, the distance is only on the part of one and not the other. Narcissa, you are lovely. Why would he ever seek a mistress? These letters? His correspondent? They are from me and I assure you, I will never capture your husband's heart.

But down to business.

I understand the Dark Lord is not as vanquished as he first appeared. I also understand that Draco was harmed last night by an artifact that once belonged to the Dark Lord. If you are every bit as intelligent as you are beautiful, you will understand why some things must be done and done in secret. This is why I ask you to not mention this to your husband. He has his secrets, you will have yours, and in the end? Draco will live in a world free of the sufferings your husband must endure.

This artifact I have mentioned is only one in a series of seven. If you wish to protect all that you hold dear, you will retrieve another one of these objects so that I may destroy it. I request this of you specifically because there is an object sitting, this very moment, in the Vault of your sister. It is Hufflepuff's Cup, and it will be found in the Lestrange Vault, only accessible to those who share the family's blood, whether it is the wife's side or the husband's. You see now why I ask this only of you.

I would suggest a disguise, a very polite goblin named Griphook, and a bag so that you may send it off with Raven as soon as the cup is acquired.

I wish you the best of luck,

Altair D.C."

Narcissa was left frozen for several moments. Who in the world was Altair D.C.? And why had he just decided to reveal himself now? What secrets did Lucius keep for him? What were these other artifacts? She remembered vaguely now that the Dark Lord had given her husband a package for safe keeping, and under no circumstances was he to see harm to it. So how had it gotten to Hogwarts? To Draco?

But above all, Narcissa was relieved. Lucius had spent hours writing to a man? She laughed freely- at least she had no competition to worry about. In fact, the man almost seemed concerned about the welfare of her marriage. And why would that be? She couldn't recall meeting an Altair in her life! Maybe during her time at Hogwarts? She thought back, but nothing came to mind but a hazy wall. It had been so many years, and surely she would have remembered such an interesting name? Narcissa shook her head. No, she had never met this man before in her life...so then why did she feel as if she owed this man?

There was no sense to it. She would do as he said only to protect her family. It was no secret, even within the family, that Bellatrix was more than a little insane. Now that Narcissa's loyalties were decided, it was plain to see how twisted the Dark side had become. If something dangerous was lurking in the Lestrange vault, then Narcissa would be more than happy to get it. Besides, what were the chances that her imprisoned sister or brother-in-law would gain amnesty and decide to fetch that exact artifact from the Wizarding Bank?

Decided, Narcissa cast a quick charm on herself to appear as a middle-aged woman with black and white hair (instead of her golden blonde) before summoning her cloak. She fixed the vase as an afterthought, and let the little owl creep into her pocket. With a faint pop, Narcissa was gone, and not one second later did she rematerialize outside the steps of Gringotts.

She walked in, feeling increasingly self-conscious, though it was technically legal for her to be doing this.

"Name?" Griphook asked roughly, as she stepped up to the desk. He was weighing each individual ruby on a scale, paying more attention to the numbers and his report than the woman in front of him.

"Narcissa Malfoy." she whispered, swallowing uncomfortably.

"To which Malfoy Vault would you like to-?" Griphook asked, rubbing at the red surface with a sense of ennui.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal from one of my sister's- Vault 989."

Something in the goblin's face clicked, for he seemed to chuckle under his breath. His beady black eyes snapped up to hers as he reached for something in the drawer.

"Of course. Of course." he said. "And if I could have identification?"

Nodding, Narcissa extracted her wand and handed it to the creature. The goblin's nails barely touched the stick, feeling repulsed and envious of the wand all at once. After studying it for about the length of time he had studied the rubies, he handed it back over the desk.

"Right this way, Mrs. Malfoy. I always knew it was a matter of time."

Unable to make sense of these words, Narcissa nodded and followed the goblin down to the carts.

.oOo.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix crooned, soft clean hair falling around her shoulders. She was garbed in a deep green dress with a black cloak that covered most of her frail body. It had been but two mere hours since the alarms had sounded through the stone halls of Azkaban, when the incompetent guards had rushed to discover seven of the highest profile prisoners had escaped...now, the Death Eaters were recovering in the Lestrange Manor, all kneeling before the Dark Lord on a stone floor. "It has been so long! But I never once believed you had been vanquished, my Lord! No, never you!" The woman flung herself by his feet, twisted joy coming out in uncontrollable giggles.

Voldemort's lips quirked up in a sinister smile as his tiny hand continued to stroke his snake, Nagini.

"Is that so?" he asked. "Have all of you displayed the same faith as Bellatrix? Or have you forgotten about me in your hours of solitude? Had you not been imprisoned, would you have sought me out? Or perhaps, like the Malfoys, would you have moved on and tried to carve out a future for yourself?"

The Death Eaters shuddered, not able to meet their Master's scrutinizing gaze.

"I would have, my Lord!" Barty Crouch Jr. cried out. "I would have come if not for my mother..."

"Your mother? Do elaborate." Voldemort drawled, tilting his great ugly head on his frail shoulders.

"She had a terminal disease and would have switched places with me. But my father refused and the next thing I heard was that she died."

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully, before hissing something to Nagini, who slithered down from her perch to mingle among his servants. They shivered as she passed, unable to help themselves.

"I will reward you all, as I reward all my loyal followers. All in good time...but now we must focus our energy into gathering forces."

Bellatrix, Junior, Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus, and Rabastan all nodded their immediate concurrence.

"Good. Now I must speak with Bellatrix alone."

Eager to be out of the thing's presence, the wizards apparated from the premises, even Rodolphus who was not entirely sure how he felt about this new Dark Lord. Voldemort was no longer tall, handsome, or elegant- now he was nothing more than a glorified fetus, disgusting to even look at...but Rodolphus was happy to be out of Azkaban, and he intended to survive for just a bit longer.

Alone in the room, Bellatrix crawled up to her master, face the picture of lovesick concern.

"My lord?" Bellatrix asked sweetly, kneeling down in front of the leather armchair that acted as his thrown.

The Dark Lord appraised her silently, waiting for Nagini to wrap herself around his chair again.

"I have a task for you, Bellatrix, that has to do with a certain artifact I had entrusted to you before my, ah, supposed downfall." he said slowly, watching as her face lit up.

"Anything!" she panted. "Anything at all!"

"I need you to retrieve it for me...just to be sure that your loyalties are where you say."

"Oh yes! I will, my Lord! Right away!"

Voldemort stroked Nagini's scales with feather light touches, knowing that Bellatrix wanted nothing more than to switch places with his snake.

"You have ten minutes, Bellatrix. Do not disappoint."