Harry Potter fic - Whispers and Rumours (Chapter Three)
Next chapter, and a note: this is where I start featuring named OCs.
Title: Whispers and Rumours
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters and pairings: Canon 'ships, some non-ship OCs added for flavour. Malfoy-centric fic.
Genre: Gen/family
Era: Deathly Hallows to Epilogue
Warnings: Contains... well, not much warnable content, except tense changes for effect, indicated by italicisation.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all canon characters, settings and concepts thereof are J.K Rowling's, not mine.
Reviews very much welcomed.
Chapter One: [ Here]
Chapter Two: [ Here]
Chapter Three: [You Are Here]
Chapter Four: [ Here]
Whispers and Rumours
The Fall and Rise of the House of Malfoy
Chapter Three: Hunted by History
Astoria comes to their home often, these days. At first, Draco is unsure if she is really sincere in the things he thinks he can pick up from her. Still, she brings far more cheer to the manor.
She speaks to Draco’s parents with that lovely combination of respect and wit that they’ve missed of late, and her jokes actually bring laughter to frequently sombre rooms. She’s beautiful, intelligent, charming and from a good family. Draco, still shaken by the war, keeps expecting the other broom to drop. There has to be a catch, somewhere. At the very least he’s reading far too much into those little smiles she gives him.
And then, one day, she removes all doubt, with a sudden and very surprising kiss as they wander in the garden. She then proceeds to confound and ensnare his mental processes with the self-effacing little giggle as she apologises for being so unladylike, but states that she felt she had to deliver some sign that couldn’t be missed.
He should feel insulted that his quick mind is being discounted. He’s too busy smiling like a lunatic at her demonstration instead.
“Astoria, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Draco began, a little nervously.
“Yes?” Her eyes widened a little as he pulled the distinctive little box from his pocket and opened it.
“Marry me?” He waited for her response, each moment seeming like an eternity.
“Of course!” She flung herself at him, dignity dissolving as she wrapped her arms around him, smiling broadly.
Their engagement makes him happier than he’d thought possible. She loves him, and he doesn’t even care what anyone else thinks of him right now, because he has found the one opinion that actually matters.
***
Far from the home of the Malfoys, in a dark and dingy room, opinions very much contrary to Draco’s or Astoria’s are being expressed. The men there are a sinister lot, the kind one would steer clear of, and for good reason; more than one of them is hiding from the repercussions of having whole-heartedly served Voldemort in the war, and the rest had held sympathies that way inclined too, though with less direct action.
“You ‘ear what ‘e’s been up to?” One of the men spits in disgust. “Prancin’ around like an ‘ero, sellin’ out ‘is old Master. Aurors gettin’ ‘is ‘elp all the time, now.”
“Stinking traitor to the cause, that one,” another agrees. “Something oughtta be done about him.”
“Agreed.” A third nods sharply. “We cannot bring the Dark Lord back. The least we can do in his memory, however, is avenge his betrayal by that scum, Malfoy.”
“Not just a single one,” the second contradicts. “You heard the stories, his bitch wife lied for Harry stinking Potter, his son turned coat too. We get them all.”
“Yes,” the first agrees fiercely. “All three’re traitors, so all three deserve t’die.”
“We are agreed, then,” the third concludes. “Lucius, Narcissa and Draco must die.” He pauses. “And any who are close to them.”
This brings rowdy shouts of approval from every man in the room.
***
When Lucius looks at his son around Astoria, he remembers what it was like in the early days with Narcissa, and the giddy joy of their newfound closeness. He’s happy for Draco, more so than he can truly say, because if there is one thing in Lucius’s life that was never a mistake, one path he can never regret if Draco follows his footsteps in it, it is the deep and abiding love Lucius discovered, that has remained with him for all this time. He only hopes Draco will be as lucky there as he was.
He’s grateful to Astoria, because she makes Draco happy. He likes her personally, too; she’s self-possessed and intelligent, definitely deserving of being brought into the family.
He can’t help but remember when he first got to know Narcissa. Oh, he’d been aware of her before that, but never quite with the same attention that he found himself directing her way on one fortunate trip to Hogsmeade, where he happened to overhear one of her quietly clever little observations to a friend, and subsequently discovered the dry, understated wit she’d been concealing beneath that distant, cool exterior.
She, in turn, to hear her mention it now, had been flattered enough at the attention to share some of the comments she’d thought of many times but had never quite found a suitable audience for. He’d returned every witty little volley with one of his own, and they had returned to Hogwarts that day with considerably more admiration for one another.
Lucius chuckles quietly to himself, remembering the battles of wits by which they initially competed with one another, before finding themselves joining forces and sharing discreetly their opinions about others to the ears of someone guaranteed to appreciate a masterfully crafted and devastatingly accurate insult.
She was, and remains, his intellectual equal... perhaps even his superior, though he refuses to admit it and spoil their fun. Even after all this time, too, she is to him as beautiful as she was back then, when separately they had drawn admiring glances, together stares of envy, and at many points distinct appreciation of how well their looks complemented each other.
He’s pragmatic enough to admit that he can be vain. He’s vain enough to still feel very pleased whenever she calls him handsome. He’s in love enough and truthful enough to call her beautiful in return each time.
***
“How do we get into the manor? It’s sure to be protected.”
“One can Apparate in,” Carlen Lewiston says impatiently. “We Apparate just outside it, then in once we have a good view. That way we bypass the protection.” He reminds himself that his band of helpers were not all trained in tactics. He has to walk them through this.
Lewiston recalls an event that had turned out to be more good fortune than he’d thought. Wounded before the Battle of Hogwarts, he was unable to take part, and thus avoided being captured, unlike most of his fellow Death Eaters.
Now, he can use that freedom to make up in some small way for not being there when the Dark Lord needed him to fight.
“When?” Rourke asks him eagerly.
“Tomorrow night. Get everyone together.”
Lewiston smiles to himself as Rourke and Cathmoore hurry off. It’s almost like having power again, like having the authority and obedience followers of the Dark Lord could demand from ordinary people. Those days are over, of course, but tomorrow night, the old days are going to be given one last, rousing farewell.
***
“Are you sure you won’t stay? We have plenty of room, after all,” Narcissa says.
Astoria smiles slightly. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to stay here for the night.”
“You’ll have a room readied,” Narcissa assures her. Astoria spending time here makes Draco happier, and so Narcissa encourages it whenever possible.
The young woman beams, and heads off to let her fiancé know that she’ll be staying over for the night.
Narcissa smiles to herself, watching her go. The fact that the wedding will make Astoria her daughter-in-law actually pleases her; if she’d ever had a daughter of her own, she’d want one like this. As it is, she can only commend Draco on his very good choice, but that will be enough.
She can remember her own wedding day, as clearly as if it were yesterday despite the intervening years. The memory always makes her smile a little. Normally so smooth and self-possessed, Lucius had looked as though she’d just Confunded him when she walked down the aisle to his side. From the whole of her life, that’s one of the happiest memories, the ones that stand out no matter what other things happen.
***
Draco shouldn’t be up this late, he suspects. Nor should he be creeping into his fiancée’s room. Still, she did encourage him, and he doesn’t intend anything untoward; all he wants to do is sit, arms around her, and talk until they fall asleep.
He hears a muffled ‘crack’ from outside, unmistakably the sound of Apparition. He creeps to the window, and sees several shadowy figures creeping across the grounds toward the house.
Draco Malfoy was only a Death Eater for a very short time, but his instincts are very finely tuned. Abandoning his previous goal, he slips away to wake and warn his parents.
Lewiston gestured silently, and the others followed him. Up to the door they went, and then beyond it, moving like dark ghosts through the silent halls of Malfoy Manor. Their objectives were simple; locate the Malfoys, and then kill them.
At such a late hour, they’d surely be asleep, helpless and wandless. Lewiston pondered what he’d do once they were dead. Perhaps, he thought, the Dark Mark should see flight in the air one last time, as a kind of supreme irony concerning the victims. He smiled grimly. He rather liked that idea.
With the Dark Mark on his arm now lifeless, seeming a mere faded tattoo or scar, it had been much simpler to copy it onto some of his associates. Once the Malfoys were dead, if by some chance they managed to get an alert away of some kind, he’d hit one of the marked ones with an Anti-Disapparition Jinx, and let him take the fall for this as the ‘renegade Death Eater only just captured.’
They slipped up the stairs, looking around contemptuously. The Malfoys had all this wealth passed down in an ancient pure-blood family, and yet they had thrown aside their history in favour of Mudbloods and other unworthy ones. Lewiston’s lip curled. He’d never had even half the Malfoy wealth, but his family had managed to stay loyal anyway.
Halfway through a doorway, Rourke suddenly halted, backing out of the room. Lewiston turned to see what was wrong, and froze for a moment as Narcissa Malfoy stepped through the doorway, wand raised, eyes flinty. From another room, Draco Malfoy emerged.
“Get them!” Lewiston snarled, no longer caring for now unnecessary stealth, and the fight began.
Astoria hurries from her room, startled by the sounds of spells. She almost cries out as Lucius grabs her arm.
“Get to the fireplace,” he hisses urgently to her. “Use the Floo network, get help.”
There’s no time to discuss it. Astoria nods sharply and runs from the battle, trying to reach the fireplace before she can be stopped. She hates to leave Draco in danger, but she can help him more by getting the word out.
With a surge of green fire, she’s gone, and Lucius Malfoy turns his attention to these intruders within his home.
He’s angry. Seething with rage at this intrusion. His wife and his son are in danger. This cannot be tolerated, and will not be endured.
With a lucky spell, Rourke manages to disarm Narcissa. He raises his wand, and she scrambles for her own, trying to reach it before he can cast his spell.
“Avada Kedavra!”
The shout rings out; the jet of green light strikes true. The battle pauses for a moment as the body falls to the floor.
Lucius smiles coldly. He was a Death Eater for a long time. He has not forgotten what he learned, and the current situation gives him more than enough reason to use it.
Lewiston gives Rourke’s body the barest of glances before leaping into action to duel Lucius. Their spells fly through the air, curse after curse, defences hastily raised each time or spells dodged at the last moment. Lewiston is sweating, face twisted with hatred. Lucius, on the other hand, seems eerily calm.
“Traitor! Y’stupid little turncoat, just die already!” Cathmoore shouts at Draco.
“No.” Draco almost smiles, side-steps a curse, and Stuns Cathmoore. He’d love to kill him, but they’re going to need more than corpses to show the Ministry.
Lewiston screams suddenly in pain, as Lucius conjures a rope of fire, wrapping it around his body for a moment and destroying his wand in the process. As the fire vanishes, he falls to his knees, robes smoking. His remaining allies turn and flee.
Lucius walks over to him slowly. “They’ve made Azkaban more... humane, these days. But then, you never went there.” His expression tightens. “I’m not inclined to let you live long enough to go there now.”
Outside, there are the sounds of more spells. The Aurors have arrived, and are subduing those of Lewiston’s companions who are trying to escape.
“You are luckier than you’ll ever know. Stupefy.” Lucius finally lowers his wand. The battle is over.
In its wake, over the next few days, comes a sudden strange sort of sympathy and approval. The Malfoys have come under attack from former Death Eaters and would-be Dark wizards, the public hears, for their efforts in changing their ways and helping the Ministry. And more; they stopped their attackers, bringing down a potential threat before any more people could be harmed.
It won’t change public opinion entirely, but it’s a start. The Malfoys know one has to start somewhere.
They don’t entirely care just now, however. They’re too busy being glad that they’re all alive, and each vowing that no one will ever seek to harm their loved ones that way again. If this were known, people would do well to pay attention. Malfoy determination, after all, has been proven very, very strong indeed.
Title: Whispers and Rumours
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters and pairings: Canon 'ships, some non-ship OCs added for flavour. Malfoy-centric fic.
Genre: Gen/family
Era: Deathly Hallows to Epilogue
Warnings: Contains... well, not much warnable content, except tense changes for effect, indicated by italicisation.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all canon characters, settings and concepts thereof are J.K Rowling's, not mine.
Reviews very much welcomed.
Chapter One: [ Here]
Chapter Two: [ Here]
Chapter Three: [You Are Here]
Chapter Four: [ Here]
Whispers and Rumours
The Fall and Rise of the House of Malfoy
Chapter Three: Hunted by History
Astoria comes to their home often, these days. At first, Draco is unsure if she is really sincere in the things he thinks he can pick up from her. Still, she brings far more cheer to the manor.
She speaks to Draco’s parents with that lovely combination of respect and wit that they’ve missed of late, and her jokes actually bring laughter to frequently sombre rooms. She’s beautiful, intelligent, charming and from a good family. Draco, still shaken by the war, keeps expecting the other broom to drop. There has to be a catch, somewhere. At the very least he’s reading far too much into those little smiles she gives him.
And then, one day, she removes all doubt, with a sudden and very surprising kiss as they wander in the garden. She then proceeds to confound and ensnare his mental processes with the self-effacing little giggle as she apologises for being so unladylike, but states that she felt she had to deliver some sign that couldn’t be missed.
He should feel insulted that his quick mind is being discounted. He’s too busy smiling like a lunatic at her demonstration instead.
“Astoria, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Draco began, a little nervously.
“Yes?” Her eyes widened a little as he pulled the distinctive little box from his pocket and opened it.
“Marry me?” He waited for her response, each moment seeming like an eternity.
“Of course!” She flung herself at him, dignity dissolving as she wrapped her arms around him, smiling broadly.
Their engagement makes him happier than he’d thought possible. She loves him, and he doesn’t even care what anyone else thinks of him right now, because he has found the one opinion that actually matters.
***
Far from the home of the Malfoys, in a dark and dingy room, opinions very much contrary to Draco’s or Astoria’s are being expressed. The men there are a sinister lot, the kind one would steer clear of, and for good reason; more than one of them is hiding from the repercussions of having whole-heartedly served Voldemort in the war, and the rest had held sympathies that way inclined too, though with less direct action.
“You ‘ear what ‘e’s been up to?” One of the men spits in disgust. “Prancin’ around like an ‘ero, sellin’ out ‘is old Master. Aurors gettin’ ‘is ‘elp all the time, now.”
“Stinking traitor to the cause, that one,” another agrees. “Something oughtta be done about him.”
“Agreed.” A third nods sharply. “We cannot bring the Dark Lord back. The least we can do in his memory, however, is avenge his betrayal by that scum, Malfoy.”
“Not just a single one,” the second contradicts. “You heard the stories, his bitch wife lied for Harry stinking Potter, his son turned coat too. We get them all.”
“Yes,” the first agrees fiercely. “All three’re traitors, so all three deserve t’die.”
“We are agreed, then,” the third concludes. “Lucius, Narcissa and Draco must die.” He pauses. “And any who are close to them.”
This brings rowdy shouts of approval from every man in the room.
***
When Lucius looks at his son around Astoria, he remembers what it was like in the early days with Narcissa, and the giddy joy of their newfound closeness. He’s happy for Draco, more so than he can truly say, because if there is one thing in Lucius’s life that was never a mistake, one path he can never regret if Draco follows his footsteps in it, it is the deep and abiding love Lucius discovered, that has remained with him for all this time. He only hopes Draco will be as lucky there as he was.
He’s grateful to Astoria, because she makes Draco happy. He likes her personally, too; she’s self-possessed and intelligent, definitely deserving of being brought into the family.
He can’t help but remember when he first got to know Narcissa. Oh, he’d been aware of her before that, but never quite with the same attention that he found himself directing her way on one fortunate trip to Hogsmeade, where he happened to overhear one of her quietly clever little observations to a friend, and subsequently discovered the dry, understated wit she’d been concealing beneath that distant, cool exterior.
She, in turn, to hear her mention it now, had been flattered enough at the attention to share some of the comments she’d thought of many times but had never quite found a suitable audience for. He’d returned every witty little volley with one of his own, and they had returned to Hogwarts that day with considerably more admiration for one another.
Lucius chuckles quietly to himself, remembering the battles of wits by which they initially competed with one another, before finding themselves joining forces and sharing discreetly their opinions about others to the ears of someone guaranteed to appreciate a masterfully crafted and devastatingly accurate insult.
She was, and remains, his intellectual equal... perhaps even his superior, though he refuses to admit it and spoil their fun. Even after all this time, too, she is to him as beautiful as she was back then, when separately they had drawn admiring glances, together stares of envy, and at many points distinct appreciation of how well their looks complemented each other.
He’s pragmatic enough to admit that he can be vain. He’s vain enough to still feel very pleased whenever she calls him handsome. He’s in love enough and truthful enough to call her beautiful in return each time.
***
“How do we get into the manor? It’s sure to be protected.”
“One can Apparate in,” Carlen Lewiston says impatiently. “We Apparate just outside it, then in once we have a good view. That way we bypass the protection.” He reminds himself that his band of helpers were not all trained in tactics. He has to walk them through this.
Lewiston recalls an event that had turned out to be more good fortune than he’d thought. Wounded before the Battle of Hogwarts, he was unable to take part, and thus avoided being captured, unlike most of his fellow Death Eaters.
Now, he can use that freedom to make up in some small way for not being there when the Dark Lord needed him to fight.
“When?” Rourke asks him eagerly.
“Tomorrow night. Get everyone together.”
Lewiston smiles to himself as Rourke and Cathmoore hurry off. It’s almost like having power again, like having the authority and obedience followers of the Dark Lord could demand from ordinary people. Those days are over, of course, but tomorrow night, the old days are going to be given one last, rousing farewell.
***
“Are you sure you won’t stay? We have plenty of room, after all,” Narcissa says.
Astoria smiles slightly. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to stay here for the night.”
“You’ll have a room readied,” Narcissa assures her. Astoria spending time here makes Draco happier, and so Narcissa encourages it whenever possible.
The young woman beams, and heads off to let her fiancé know that she’ll be staying over for the night.
Narcissa smiles to herself, watching her go. The fact that the wedding will make Astoria her daughter-in-law actually pleases her; if she’d ever had a daughter of her own, she’d want one like this. As it is, she can only commend Draco on his very good choice, but that will be enough.
She can remember her own wedding day, as clearly as if it were yesterday despite the intervening years. The memory always makes her smile a little. Normally so smooth and self-possessed, Lucius had looked as though she’d just Confunded him when she walked down the aisle to his side. From the whole of her life, that’s one of the happiest memories, the ones that stand out no matter what other things happen.
***
Draco shouldn’t be up this late, he suspects. Nor should he be creeping into his fiancée’s room. Still, she did encourage him, and he doesn’t intend anything untoward; all he wants to do is sit, arms around her, and talk until they fall asleep.
He hears a muffled ‘crack’ from outside, unmistakably the sound of Apparition. He creeps to the window, and sees several shadowy figures creeping across the grounds toward the house.
Draco Malfoy was only a Death Eater for a very short time, but his instincts are very finely tuned. Abandoning his previous goal, he slips away to wake and warn his parents.
Lewiston gestured silently, and the others followed him. Up to the door they went, and then beyond it, moving like dark ghosts through the silent halls of Malfoy Manor. Their objectives were simple; locate the Malfoys, and then kill them.
At such a late hour, they’d surely be asleep, helpless and wandless. Lewiston pondered what he’d do once they were dead. Perhaps, he thought, the Dark Mark should see flight in the air one last time, as a kind of supreme irony concerning the victims. He smiled grimly. He rather liked that idea.
With the Dark Mark on his arm now lifeless, seeming a mere faded tattoo or scar, it had been much simpler to copy it onto some of his associates. Once the Malfoys were dead, if by some chance they managed to get an alert away of some kind, he’d hit one of the marked ones with an Anti-Disapparition Jinx, and let him take the fall for this as the ‘renegade Death Eater only just captured.’
They slipped up the stairs, looking around contemptuously. The Malfoys had all this wealth passed down in an ancient pure-blood family, and yet they had thrown aside their history in favour of Mudbloods and other unworthy ones. Lewiston’s lip curled. He’d never had even half the Malfoy wealth, but his family had managed to stay loyal anyway.
Halfway through a doorway, Rourke suddenly halted, backing out of the room. Lewiston turned to see what was wrong, and froze for a moment as Narcissa Malfoy stepped through the doorway, wand raised, eyes flinty. From another room, Draco Malfoy emerged.
“Get them!” Lewiston snarled, no longer caring for now unnecessary stealth, and the fight began.
Astoria hurries from her room, startled by the sounds of spells. She almost cries out as Lucius grabs her arm.
“Get to the fireplace,” he hisses urgently to her. “Use the Floo network, get help.”
There’s no time to discuss it. Astoria nods sharply and runs from the battle, trying to reach the fireplace before she can be stopped. She hates to leave Draco in danger, but she can help him more by getting the word out.
With a surge of green fire, she’s gone, and Lucius Malfoy turns his attention to these intruders within his home.
He’s angry. Seething with rage at this intrusion. His wife and his son are in danger. This cannot be tolerated, and will not be endured.
With a lucky spell, Rourke manages to disarm Narcissa. He raises his wand, and she scrambles for her own, trying to reach it before he can cast his spell.
“Avada Kedavra!”
The shout rings out; the jet of green light strikes true. The battle pauses for a moment as the body falls to the floor.
Lucius smiles coldly. He was a Death Eater for a long time. He has not forgotten what he learned, and the current situation gives him more than enough reason to use it.
Lewiston gives Rourke’s body the barest of glances before leaping into action to duel Lucius. Their spells fly through the air, curse after curse, defences hastily raised each time or spells dodged at the last moment. Lewiston is sweating, face twisted with hatred. Lucius, on the other hand, seems eerily calm.
“Traitor! Y’stupid little turncoat, just die already!” Cathmoore shouts at Draco.
“No.” Draco almost smiles, side-steps a curse, and Stuns Cathmoore. He’d love to kill him, but they’re going to need more than corpses to show the Ministry.
Lewiston screams suddenly in pain, as Lucius conjures a rope of fire, wrapping it around his body for a moment and destroying his wand in the process. As the fire vanishes, he falls to his knees, robes smoking. His remaining allies turn and flee.
Lucius walks over to him slowly. “They’ve made Azkaban more... humane, these days. But then, you never went there.” His expression tightens. “I’m not inclined to let you live long enough to go there now.”
Outside, there are the sounds of more spells. The Aurors have arrived, and are subduing those of Lewiston’s companions who are trying to escape.
“You are luckier than you’ll ever know. Stupefy.” Lucius finally lowers his wand. The battle is over.
In its wake, over the next few days, comes a sudden strange sort of sympathy and approval. The Malfoys have come under attack from former Death Eaters and would-be Dark wizards, the public hears, for their efforts in changing their ways and helping the Ministry. And more; they stopped their attackers, bringing down a potential threat before any more people could be harmed.
It won’t change public opinion entirely, but it’s a start. The Malfoys know one has to start somewhere.
They don’t entirely care just now, however. They’re too busy being glad that they’re all alive, and each vowing that no one will ever seek to harm their loved ones that way again. If this were known, people would do well to pay attention. Malfoy determination, after all, has been proven very, very strong indeed.