FIC: Keeping Faith (Lotrips/HP, Lucius Malfoy, PG)
Title: Keeping Faith
Author: darkrosetiger
Fandom: Harry Potter/Lotrips crossover
Pairing: eventually Viggo/Lucius, implied Lucius/Snape in this section
Archive: Please ask.
Rating: PG
Summary: After a year in Azkaban, cutting a deal sounds good to Lucius Malfoy--even if it means betraying the Dark Lord and living in LA.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: You get two for the price of one here: 1) Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real people involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe. and probably seek professional help. 2) Neither of us is J.K. Rowling; if we were, we'd have a nicer car and live in San Francisco. This is her world, not ours. Are we clear here?
Notes: Quite a while ago, airgiodslv came up with the goblins_library challenge, which was to write a Lotrips/Harry Potter crossover. At the time telesilla and I said we'd do Viggo/Lucius, but we didn't have the inspiration so it didn't go anywhere. Then we watched Goblet of Fire on DVD and got bitten by a persistent bunny.
In order to bring some things into parallel, we've messed with the timing of events in the HP universe. There is a timeline, but all you really need to know is that Year One is now 2000. This piece takes place in 2006, after the events in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and follows Dual Citizenship and concurrent with Favor.
Lucius Malfoy had always possessed a keen appreciation of irony, so he found some amusement in the fact that he was safer in Azkaban than anywhere else. Here, at least, the hideous tattoo on his left forearm didn't burn, and his dreams weren't filled with the sibilant sound of hissing snakes. With the dementors no longer serving as guards; his greatest enemy was the constant, oppressive boredom. He read and re-read the six books (carefully vetted by the Ministry, of course) that Narcissa had brought him on one of the rare visits she was permitted.
Most often, though, Lucius sat in a straight-backed, uncomfortable chair and thought. He thought about Draco, hoping that the vague hints Narcissa had been able to give meant that he was still safe. He thought about Severus--although he wasn't entirely sure why--and what he would have had to have done or said differently to have kept Severus as his lover. He went over and over the battle at the Department of Mysteries, analyzing his mistakes and those of the other Death Eaters. And he thought a great deal about how stupid his father had been to think that anyone, even a Malfoy, could control a wizard who was both incredibly powerful and completely insane.
Lucius had always prided himself on being logical and rational, qualities that in his experience were rare among wizards. The debacle at the Department of Mysteries had merely confirmed something he had suspected since before the Dark Lord's return: they were fighting a lost cause. Voldemort was incapable of subtlety, and he would never understand that persuasion often yielded better results than force. His greatest success had been at uniting the wizarding world against him, and for what? Lucius was well aware that Dark Lord would never share power with the Death Eaters, and at best, they would never be more than favored servants. The idea that Malfoy honor, fortunes, and even lives had been sacrificed for nothing--and in the service of a mere half-blood--galled Lucius.
But even though deception and treachery had been Malfoy family tradition for nearly a thousand years, Lucius and his father and brother before him had sworn fealty to Lord Voldemort. However foolish that had been, Lucius hated the thought of breaking his word once it was given--even if he thought he would survive betraying the Dark Lord. He had been quick to distance himself from Voldemort when it seemed that Lily Potter's magic had destroyed him, but when the Dark Lord returned, Lucius had been one of the first to kneel and kiss the hem of his master's robes. He had thanked Voldemort after the enraged Dark Lord had put him under the Cruciatus Curse as punishment for Lucius' failure with Tom Riddle's diary, and he had sworn that he would bring his master the prophecy.
He hadn't, and now his sole consolation was that in Azkaban, he was beyond the Dark Lord's reach. It was cold comfort, however; even before Narcissa told him in deliberately vague terms that Voldemort had made Draco a Death Eater, Lucius had known that Draco would pay for his father's mistake. His primary goal for the past 16 years had been to protect his son and he had failed; the taste of that was more bitter than any poison.
Time had little meaning inside Azkaban, but Lucius judged it to be about a month after Narcissa visited to reassure him that Draco had survived a vicious magical attack by Harry Potter when he heard the shocked whispers begin. The current Azkaban guards were only marginally more talkative than the previous set, but eventually, Lucius dragged a startling story out of one of them: Albus Dumbledore was dead. Since Lucius had disliked the man even back when he was a student, he was surprised but not especially disappointed. Lucius was more interested in finding out who had killed him.
Narcissa had told Lucius that Draco had been "studying hard at home" over the summer, and that he was working on "an important project". Lucius had interpreted that to mean that Voldemort had given Draco a great task that required help from Narcissa's half-mad sister. It seemed entirely plausible that the Dark Lord would retaliate for Lucius' failure by ordering Draco to do something that even Voldemort had been unable to do.
And now Dumbledore is dead. Either Draco failed to kill him, in which case his own death is only a matter of time, or Draco succeeded, in which case I will be freed soon with the knowledge that my son is a murderer. And despite everything I've done, I never wanted that for him.
All Lucius could do was wait, pacing in his cell like a caged leopard, hoping that Narcissa would come to tell him something. Days, then weeks passed, and there was no word of his wife or his son; Lucius was utterly helpless and it was driving him mad.
"Mr Malfoy?"
The heavy stone door scraped across the floor as it was pushed open. Lucius turned his head, but he already knew it wasn't Narcissa; the voice was male, and unfamiliar. He turned away again, staring straight ahead at the grey stone walls of his cell.
"Mr Malfoy...I'm Jan Mortensen. The Ministry has appointed me to be your advocate before the Wizengamot." A tall, slender--very attractive, Lucius couldn't help noting--young wizard in nicely tailored charcoal-grey robes came around to the other side of the table and held out his hand. When Lucius didn't take it, Mortensen sat in the cell's only other chair.
"I realize that the Ministry has frozen the bulk of my financial assets, but I assure you that if I were in need of a lawyer, I could hire one myself," Lucius said, looking at a spot just to the left of Mortensen's head.
"Well...yes..." Mortensen explained as he pulled papers and folders out of his briefcase, "but you haven't chosen one, have you? And, well...." He looked up at Lucius. "I'm afraid that certain other advocates in the Ministry's employ have been suspended from practice, or are themselves...here."
Lucius smirked, but he knew the expression was hardly up to his usual standard. "Why am I not surprised?"
"There's more, Mr. Malfoy." Something in Mortensen's voice made Lucius drop his pose of disinterest and look at the other wizard. Mortensen's hands were folded in front of him and he was regarding Lucius with cool grey eyes. "As you may have heard, Albus Dumbledore is dead."
"I had heard rumours of that, yes."
"You may not be aware that he was murdered by a Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape...who I believe is also a former associate of yours?"
Before he could stop it, a sharp intake of breath escaped from between Lucius' clenched teeth. Why Severus, I had no idea you still cared--even if it was for Draco's sake and not mine. "I know him, yes."
"He escaped, and has not been seen since. He wasn't alone, however: a witness saw him Apparate away with Draco Malfoy." Mortensen's expression was bland, giving nothing away.
"Is he charged with the murder, then?" Lucius asked, fighting to keep his voice level.
For an instant, there was a flicker of what might have been sympathy in Mortensen's grey eyes. "No, Mr. Malfoy. The Ministry would very much like to speak with him, of course, to find out exactly what happened..."
Lucius' grey-blue eyes narrowed. "Are you attempting to use my son's welfare as a lever against me, Mr. Mortensen?"
Mortensen smiled. "You mean, like Voldemort did? No, Mr. Malfoy--as I said, your son's current whereabouts are unknown. However, a great many people are clamoring for action in the wake of Dumbledore's murder...and we have several known Death Eaters imprisoned here. Such as yourself."
"Ah, I see...you need a scapegoat. And since I'm already here, I'll do nicely," Lucius said, mouth curling in a sneer.
"It has been proposed that you stand trial for your previous crimes, of course, not for anything that has occurred since you were imprisoned. Since the dementors have revolted and joined Voldemort, you would face either a life sentence in Azkaban, or Obliviation--removing all your memories before releasing you to start a new life."
Lucius clenched his hands in his lap. "I'd rather die, thank you."
"Most people would." Mortensen's voice was still calm and even. "There is, as I'm sure you have guessed, an alternative."
Abruptly, Lucius stood and turned his back on Mortensen. He knew what the man wanted, and while it had certainly occurred to him before, the ramifications of such an act...."Do you have any idea what you are asking? I swore a blood oath twenty-four years ago, to serve the Dark Lord and obey him without question. If I betray that now, I destroy what is left of the Malfoy honor and I expose myself, my wife, and my son to the Dark Lord's vengeance."
"We can make provisions to hide you, send you somewhere safe--"
"What place is safer than here?" Lucius said bitterly. "If nothing else, here I am beyond his reach. And what can I tell you that you don't already know?"
Mortensen leaned forward. "Names. Locations. Most of all, what he plans. Anything you could tell us would potentially be useful, because we know so little."
"And if I did...there would be no retribution? I would be cleared completely?"
"I can't give you specific terms, but you would, eventually, be released." Mortensen hesitated for a moment, then added, "Mr. Malfoy, I do understand what we're asking of you, and I wouldn't attempt to persuade you to break a blood oath were the stakes not so very high."
Lucius turned to look at Mortensen. "Yes..." he said slowly, "I suppose you would understand, at that." The Mortensens were blood traitors, of course, but they were still an old wizarding family, and unlike the Weasleys, they still commanded a degree of respect from their opponents because they hadn't entirely discarded the old traditions.
Lucius considered his limited options. He remembered the night when his father had given him to the Dark Lord, how terrified he'd been as the no-longer-human wizard touched him before using a silver-bladed knife to draw Lucius' blood for a ritual. Lucius had sworn to himself then that he would not repeat his father's mistakes with his own son. And now...He broke faith with me the moment he gave Draco the Mark.
The Malfoy family motto was "Faithful to Our Own." Whatever else might be said of Lucius, he was a true Malfoy.
He returned to his chair and sat, meeting Mortensen's eyes. "What do you wish to know?"
*****
For three months, Lucius met with Ministry officials, always with Mortensen present. He was asked the same questions over and over again in slightly different ways, then put under Veritaserum while his statements were recorded. Finally, in January, Jan informed Lucius that he would be appearing before the Wizengamot.
On the morning of the hearing, two guards came and shackled Lucius' hands before leading him out to a tiny room with a platform that served as a portkey to a warded room in the Ministry. The guards shoved Lucius onto the platform and stood on either side of him, holding him tightly enough that Lucius knew he'd have bruises on his arms from their grip. A muttered word, and the portkey was activated, and Lucius was standing on another platform in another tiny room.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Jan said, stepping up to the platform. "If you'll free his hands, please, then you can return to your duties."
"But he's--" one of the guards said. The other, noticing Jan's arched eyebrow, elbowed his mate in the ribs. With no further protests, they unlocked the manacles around Lucius' wrists, stepped on the platform and vanished. Jan hurried forward, holding a set of clean robes.
"Here--we need to clean you up a bit. Put these on, and I'll fit them to you. Hurry; the hearing's about to start." Lucius was amused to see Jan turn around, giving Lucius the illusion of privacy while he stripped out of the ragged shirt and trousers of his prison uniform. The robes were a far cry from the impeccably tailored ones he usually wore, but they were clean, and once Jan enchanted them, they fit well enough.
Jan frowned as he looked at Lucius' hair, which months of neglect had left a tangled, matted mess. Jan raised his wand, intending to attempt a detangling spell, but Lucius reached out and grabbed his wrist.
"Cut it," he ordered.
"It'll have to be rather short," Jan warned him. Lucius nodded.
"I realize that. Cut it, and burn if you would be so kind." It was an act of defiance, though none of his judges would recognize it as such; Lucius's nightmares often incorporated his memories of Voldemort's long, spidery fingers twined though the silky white-blond hair. "So beautiful, my pureblood prince," Voldemort would hiss while Lucius sat at his feet.
Jan nodded. A simple spell, and a pile of white-blond hair spilled to the floor. Lucius' head felt oddly light.
"Incendio!" Jan said, filling the small anteroom with the stink of burning hair. "All right--let's go. And Lucius..."
"Yes?"
"Please don't say anything. Let me do all the talking; that's what the Ministry's paying me for." Before Lucius can reply, Jan pushed open the door to Courtroom Ten and went in, beckoning for Lucius to follow.
The courtroom was surprisingly empty with only the front bench completely filled. Rufus Scrimgeour sat in the center in the position normally reserved for the Chief Warlock; a red-haired young man Lucius suspected of being a Weasley was taking notes, though he didn't look up. Sitting beside Scrimgeour, Lucius recognized Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden, both of whom had been on the Wizengamot since before Lucius' father's day. Three of the others he remembered from his interrogation sessions. Amos Diggory was there, which was a bit of a surprise; he stared down at Lucius with narrowed eyes. Next to him, glaring at Lucius with an expression of undisguised hatred was Arthur Weasley. It took every ounce of Lucius' control not to sneer at Weasley, but he forced himself to ignore his enemy and proceed to the chair in the center of the room. He sat, managing not to flinch when the magical chains wrapped around his arms, binding him to the chair.
"Lucius Gaius Alexander Malfoy," Scrimgeour intoned. "You have pled guilty to the charge of attempted theft of Ministry property, use of all three Unforgivable Curses, and of being a Death Eater and a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The normal sentence for those crimes would be either permanent Obliviation or life imprisonment in Azkaban. In light of the valuable information that you have provided, your sentence has been reduced--"
"He's a murderer!" Arthur Weasley stood up, his face almost as red as his thinning hair. "You can't just let him go!" Lucius noted that the young wizard serving as court scribe looked up at Weasley for a moment, his expression furious.
"Mr. Weasley!" Scrimgeour shouted, "You have already registered your objections. The decision has been made; kindly control yourself or I shall have you removed from this court. Now, as I was saying...your sentence has been reduced to ten years of house arrest, five of which must be served without the use of magic. The Ministry of Magic will retain custody of your wand, which will be closely monitored. If you are found engaging in any illegal activities, you will be immediately returned to Azkaban for life. Is this clear?"
Lucius glanced over at Jan, who nodded slightly. "Quite clear," he told Scrimgeour. Before he could add anything, Jan interrupted him.
"Minister Scrimgeour, as you and I have discussed previously, releasing my client, even to his own home, would be putting him at risk of his life at the hands of his former associates."
"Yes, Mr. Mortensen, you did mention that. Unfortunately, the only other solution would be have your client remain in Azkaban for the duration of...current hostilities." Lucius noticed Weasley's look of satisfaction at Scrimgeour's words, but he wasn't terribly worried. He knew Mortensen well enough by now to feel certain that his advocate had a trump card up his sleeve.
Jan smiled. "There is another solution, Minister...if we might borrow an idea from Muggle law enforcement, where a criminal who has agreed to testify in exchange for a reduced sentence is relocated, somewhere secret where it would be difficult for anyone bent on revenge to find him."
"And I am assuming you have an idea for such a location?" Scrimgeour said drily.
"In fact, I do...if I may approach the bench?" Jan moved closer; Scrimgeour cast a localized silencing spell around them as they conferred. Lucius watched them, trying to focus on their conversation rather than on the glares he was still getting from Arthur Weasley. Finally Jan came back, a very satisfied smile on his face.
"Very well... In light of the valuable information that you have provided, your sentence has been reduced to ten years of house arrest, five of which must be served without the use of magic. For the remainder of the current conflict, your sentence will be served in an alternate location. Do you accept these terms?"
Lucius inclined his head slightly. "I do," he said, not bothering to hide his cynical amusement at the farce of a hearing. Scrimgeour gave Lucius a thin smile in response and waved his wand at the chair. The chains binding Lucius slid to the floor.
"In that case, this hearing is adjourned. Mr. Mortensen, if you will join me for a moment?"
"Of course. Lucius--" Jan took Lucius' arm and steered him to a small side room. "I'll be back in a moment; we just need to finalize one or two details."
Jan was as good as his word, and only a few minutes later he was back, pulling up a wooden chair across from Lucius. "All right; everything is settled. I'm going to take you to my brother's house in Los Angeles, which is where you'll be staying for the foreseeable future."
Lucius arched an eyebrow. "The forseeable future can be a long time, Mr. Mortensen," he pointed out.
Jan grimaced. "True, but as I think you've gathered by now, the present situation is unstable enough that something's going to have to give sooner rather than later. If we win, then we'll take you back to serve out the rest of your sentence in your own home. If we lose, it won't matter."
"Granted--and thank you for not attempting to paint the situation in overly-optimistic colors," Lucius said. "You have been direct with me throughout all of this and I appreciate that."
"For all that I obviously think you've made some poor choices, and that I don't agree with your politics," Jan replied, "you're an intelligent man, and I'm not going to waste my time and yours by treating you as anything else."
He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "There are some things you need to know about my brother. First of all, he has no magical abilities that we know of."
"He's a Squib, in other words," Lucius said, wondering why Jan was avoiding the word.
"Yes..." Jan chewed on his lower lip. "He's chosen to live as a Muggle, among Muggles, except when absolutely necessary. His only interaction with the wizarding world is through his immediate family. He's...well, he's Viggo, and he approaches life on his own terms." Jan smiled a little. "He's an actor, and he's quite famous among Muggles--not to mention making a good deal more money than I do. You'll be quite comfortable. More importantly, Muggle Los Angeles is probably the last place anyone would think to look for you."
Lucius nodded, keeping his face carefully blank. "Since I will not have my wand, I expect I will be able to fit in."
Jan laughed. "I wouldn't go that far--even in LA. But on the subject of your wand; the Ministry has it--"
"They didn't destroy it, then?" Lucius leaned forward. He's had the same wand since he was 11: elm, 12 inches, dragon heartstring core, "well-suited to the Dark Arts", Ollivander had said when he chose it.
"No, they didn't. Because of the unusual circumstances, I was able to persuade the Minister that the physical custody of your wand be left with Viggo. He can't use it, of course, but should we be extremely unlucky, he can give it to you if you need to defend yourself and him." Jan looked at Lucius. "Your wand will be spelled to alert the Ministry immediately if it is used. I'm sure you realize that using your wand in any but the direst circumstances will be considered a violation of the terms of your sentence."
"Of course." Lucius sighed. "Is there anything else?"
"Just one thing: given that you are a powerful enough wizard to be able to perform wandless magic, the Ministry has insisted on using the spells that will effectively bind your magical abilities to your wand."
Lucius frowned. "I didn't know those spells actually worked--and I would have thought they'd be considered Dark."
"Well...yes." Jan looked a little uncomfortable. "Yes to both, but it was the condition for allowing Viggo to have your wand, so..." He shrugged. "I've been assured that while it will be uncomfortable at first, it shouldn't feel much different from being under the wards at Azkaban for an extended period of time."
"And in any event, I have little choice, do I?" Lucius smiled, not bothering to hide his bitterness.
"No, Mr. Malfoy, you don't." Jan stood, and held out his hand. "With the time difference, Viggo should be awake by now, so we can get you there and get you settled. It's not ideal, but it's what we have now, and it's better than Azkaban."
Lucius reached out and took Jan's hand. "Most things are."
Author: darkrosetiger
Fandom: Harry Potter/Lotrips crossover
Pairing: eventually Viggo/Lucius, implied Lucius/Snape in this section
Archive: Please ask.
Rating: PG
Summary: After a year in Azkaban, cutting a deal sounds good to Lucius Malfoy--even if it means betraying the Dark Lord and living in LA.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: You get two for the price of one here: 1) Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real people involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe. and probably seek professional help. 2) Neither of us is J.K. Rowling; if we were, we'd have a nicer car and live in San Francisco. This is her world, not ours. Are we clear here?
Notes: Quite a while ago, airgiodslv came up with the goblins_library challenge, which was to write a Lotrips/Harry Potter crossover. At the time telesilla and I said we'd do Viggo/Lucius, but we didn't have the inspiration so it didn't go anywhere. Then we watched Goblet of Fire on DVD and got bitten by a persistent bunny.
In order to bring some things into parallel, we've messed with the timing of events in the HP universe. There is a timeline, but all you really need to know is that Year One is now 2000. This piece takes place in 2006, after the events in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and follows Dual Citizenship and concurrent with Favor.
Lucius Malfoy had always possessed a keen appreciation of irony, so he found some amusement in the fact that he was safer in Azkaban than anywhere else. Here, at least, the hideous tattoo on his left forearm didn't burn, and his dreams weren't filled with the sibilant sound of hissing snakes. With the dementors no longer serving as guards; his greatest enemy was the constant, oppressive boredom. He read and re-read the six books (carefully vetted by the Ministry, of course) that Narcissa had brought him on one of the rare visits she was permitted.
Most often, though, Lucius sat in a straight-backed, uncomfortable chair and thought. He thought about Draco, hoping that the vague hints Narcissa had been able to give meant that he was still safe. He thought about Severus--although he wasn't entirely sure why--and what he would have had to have done or said differently to have kept Severus as his lover. He went over and over the battle at the Department of Mysteries, analyzing his mistakes and those of the other Death Eaters. And he thought a great deal about how stupid his father had been to think that anyone, even a Malfoy, could control a wizard who was both incredibly powerful and completely insane.
Lucius had always prided himself on being logical and rational, qualities that in his experience were rare among wizards. The debacle at the Department of Mysteries had merely confirmed something he had suspected since before the Dark Lord's return: they were fighting a lost cause. Voldemort was incapable of subtlety, and he would never understand that persuasion often yielded better results than force. His greatest success had been at uniting the wizarding world against him, and for what? Lucius was well aware that Dark Lord would never share power with the Death Eaters, and at best, they would never be more than favored servants. The idea that Malfoy honor, fortunes, and even lives had been sacrificed for nothing--and in the service of a mere half-blood--galled Lucius.
But even though deception and treachery had been Malfoy family tradition for nearly a thousand years, Lucius and his father and brother before him had sworn fealty to Lord Voldemort. However foolish that had been, Lucius hated the thought of breaking his word once it was given--even if he thought he would survive betraying the Dark Lord. He had been quick to distance himself from Voldemort when it seemed that Lily Potter's magic had destroyed him, but when the Dark Lord returned, Lucius had been one of the first to kneel and kiss the hem of his master's robes. He had thanked Voldemort after the enraged Dark Lord had put him under the Cruciatus Curse as punishment for Lucius' failure with Tom Riddle's diary, and he had sworn that he would bring his master the prophecy.
He hadn't, and now his sole consolation was that in Azkaban, he was beyond the Dark Lord's reach. It was cold comfort, however; even before Narcissa told him in deliberately vague terms that Voldemort had made Draco a Death Eater, Lucius had known that Draco would pay for his father's mistake. His primary goal for the past 16 years had been to protect his son and he had failed; the taste of that was more bitter than any poison.
Time had little meaning inside Azkaban, but Lucius judged it to be about a month after Narcissa visited to reassure him that Draco had survived a vicious magical attack by Harry Potter when he heard the shocked whispers begin. The current Azkaban guards were only marginally more talkative than the previous set, but eventually, Lucius dragged a startling story out of one of them: Albus Dumbledore was dead. Since Lucius had disliked the man even back when he was a student, he was surprised but not especially disappointed. Lucius was more interested in finding out who had killed him.
Narcissa had told Lucius that Draco had been "studying hard at home" over the summer, and that he was working on "an important project". Lucius had interpreted that to mean that Voldemort had given Draco a great task that required help from Narcissa's half-mad sister. It seemed entirely plausible that the Dark Lord would retaliate for Lucius' failure by ordering Draco to do something that even Voldemort had been unable to do.
And now Dumbledore is dead. Either Draco failed to kill him, in which case his own death is only a matter of time, or Draco succeeded, in which case I will be freed soon with the knowledge that my son is a murderer. And despite everything I've done, I never wanted that for him.
All Lucius could do was wait, pacing in his cell like a caged leopard, hoping that Narcissa would come to tell him something. Days, then weeks passed, and there was no word of his wife or his son; Lucius was utterly helpless and it was driving him mad.
"Mr Malfoy?"
The heavy stone door scraped across the floor as it was pushed open. Lucius turned his head, but he already knew it wasn't Narcissa; the voice was male, and unfamiliar. He turned away again, staring straight ahead at the grey stone walls of his cell.
"Mr Malfoy...I'm Jan Mortensen. The Ministry has appointed me to be your advocate before the Wizengamot." A tall, slender--very attractive, Lucius couldn't help noting--young wizard in nicely tailored charcoal-grey robes came around to the other side of the table and held out his hand. When Lucius didn't take it, Mortensen sat in the cell's only other chair.
"I realize that the Ministry has frozen the bulk of my financial assets, but I assure you that if I were in need of a lawyer, I could hire one myself," Lucius said, looking at a spot just to the left of Mortensen's head.
"Well...yes..." Mortensen explained as he pulled papers and folders out of his briefcase, "but you haven't chosen one, have you? And, well...." He looked up at Lucius. "I'm afraid that certain other advocates in the Ministry's employ have been suspended from practice, or are themselves...here."
Lucius smirked, but he knew the expression was hardly up to his usual standard. "Why am I not surprised?"
"There's more, Mr. Malfoy." Something in Mortensen's voice made Lucius drop his pose of disinterest and look at the other wizard. Mortensen's hands were folded in front of him and he was regarding Lucius with cool grey eyes. "As you may have heard, Albus Dumbledore is dead."
"I had heard rumours of that, yes."
"You may not be aware that he was murdered by a Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape...who I believe is also a former associate of yours?"
Before he could stop it, a sharp intake of breath escaped from between Lucius' clenched teeth. Why Severus, I had no idea you still cared--even if it was for Draco's sake and not mine. "I know him, yes."
"He escaped, and has not been seen since. He wasn't alone, however: a witness saw him Apparate away with Draco Malfoy." Mortensen's expression was bland, giving nothing away.
"Is he charged with the murder, then?" Lucius asked, fighting to keep his voice level.
For an instant, there was a flicker of what might have been sympathy in Mortensen's grey eyes. "No, Mr. Malfoy. The Ministry would very much like to speak with him, of course, to find out exactly what happened..."
Lucius' grey-blue eyes narrowed. "Are you attempting to use my son's welfare as a lever against me, Mr. Mortensen?"
Mortensen smiled. "You mean, like Voldemort did? No, Mr. Malfoy--as I said, your son's current whereabouts are unknown. However, a great many people are clamoring for action in the wake of Dumbledore's murder...and we have several known Death Eaters imprisoned here. Such as yourself."
"Ah, I see...you need a scapegoat. And since I'm already here, I'll do nicely," Lucius said, mouth curling in a sneer.
"It has been proposed that you stand trial for your previous crimes, of course, not for anything that has occurred since you were imprisoned. Since the dementors have revolted and joined Voldemort, you would face either a life sentence in Azkaban, or Obliviation--removing all your memories before releasing you to start a new life."
Lucius clenched his hands in his lap. "I'd rather die, thank you."
"Most people would." Mortensen's voice was still calm and even. "There is, as I'm sure you have guessed, an alternative."
Abruptly, Lucius stood and turned his back on Mortensen. He knew what the man wanted, and while it had certainly occurred to him before, the ramifications of such an act...."Do you have any idea what you are asking? I swore a blood oath twenty-four years ago, to serve the Dark Lord and obey him without question. If I betray that now, I destroy what is left of the Malfoy honor and I expose myself, my wife, and my son to the Dark Lord's vengeance."
"We can make provisions to hide you, send you somewhere safe--"
"What place is safer than here?" Lucius said bitterly. "If nothing else, here I am beyond his reach. And what can I tell you that you don't already know?"
Mortensen leaned forward. "Names. Locations. Most of all, what he plans. Anything you could tell us would potentially be useful, because we know so little."
"And if I did...there would be no retribution? I would be cleared completely?"
"I can't give you specific terms, but you would, eventually, be released." Mortensen hesitated for a moment, then added, "Mr. Malfoy, I do understand what we're asking of you, and I wouldn't attempt to persuade you to break a blood oath were the stakes not so very high."
Lucius turned to look at Mortensen. "Yes..." he said slowly, "I suppose you would understand, at that." The Mortensens were blood traitors, of course, but they were still an old wizarding family, and unlike the Weasleys, they still commanded a degree of respect from their opponents because they hadn't entirely discarded the old traditions.
Lucius considered his limited options. He remembered the night when his father had given him to the Dark Lord, how terrified he'd been as the no-longer-human wizard touched him before using a silver-bladed knife to draw Lucius' blood for a ritual. Lucius had sworn to himself then that he would not repeat his father's mistakes with his own son. And now...He broke faith with me the moment he gave Draco the Mark.
The Malfoy family motto was "Faithful to Our Own." Whatever else might be said of Lucius, he was a true Malfoy.
He returned to his chair and sat, meeting Mortensen's eyes. "What do you wish to know?"
*****
For three months, Lucius met with Ministry officials, always with Mortensen present. He was asked the same questions over and over again in slightly different ways, then put under Veritaserum while his statements were recorded. Finally, in January, Jan informed Lucius that he would be appearing before the Wizengamot.
On the morning of the hearing, two guards came and shackled Lucius' hands before leading him out to a tiny room with a platform that served as a portkey to a warded room in the Ministry. The guards shoved Lucius onto the platform and stood on either side of him, holding him tightly enough that Lucius knew he'd have bruises on his arms from their grip. A muttered word, and the portkey was activated, and Lucius was standing on another platform in another tiny room.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Jan said, stepping up to the platform. "If you'll free his hands, please, then you can return to your duties."
"But he's--" one of the guards said. The other, noticing Jan's arched eyebrow, elbowed his mate in the ribs. With no further protests, they unlocked the manacles around Lucius' wrists, stepped on the platform and vanished. Jan hurried forward, holding a set of clean robes.
"Here--we need to clean you up a bit. Put these on, and I'll fit them to you. Hurry; the hearing's about to start." Lucius was amused to see Jan turn around, giving Lucius the illusion of privacy while he stripped out of the ragged shirt and trousers of his prison uniform. The robes were a far cry from the impeccably tailored ones he usually wore, but they were clean, and once Jan enchanted them, they fit well enough.
Jan frowned as he looked at Lucius' hair, which months of neglect had left a tangled, matted mess. Jan raised his wand, intending to attempt a detangling spell, but Lucius reached out and grabbed his wrist.
"Cut it," he ordered.
"It'll have to be rather short," Jan warned him. Lucius nodded.
"I realize that. Cut it, and burn if you would be so kind." It was an act of defiance, though none of his judges would recognize it as such; Lucius's nightmares often incorporated his memories of Voldemort's long, spidery fingers twined though the silky white-blond hair. "So beautiful, my pureblood prince," Voldemort would hiss while Lucius sat at his feet.
Jan nodded. A simple spell, and a pile of white-blond hair spilled to the floor. Lucius' head felt oddly light.
"Incendio!" Jan said, filling the small anteroom with the stink of burning hair. "All right--let's go. And Lucius..."
"Yes?"
"Please don't say anything. Let me do all the talking; that's what the Ministry's paying me for." Before Lucius can reply, Jan pushed open the door to Courtroom Ten and went in, beckoning for Lucius to follow.
The courtroom was surprisingly empty with only the front bench completely filled. Rufus Scrimgeour sat in the center in the position normally reserved for the Chief Warlock; a red-haired young man Lucius suspected of being a Weasley was taking notes, though he didn't look up. Sitting beside Scrimgeour, Lucius recognized Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden, both of whom had been on the Wizengamot since before Lucius' father's day. Three of the others he remembered from his interrogation sessions. Amos Diggory was there, which was a bit of a surprise; he stared down at Lucius with narrowed eyes. Next to him, glaring at Lucius with an expression of undisguised hatred was Arthur Weasley. It took every ounce of Lucius' control not to sneer at Weasley, but he forced himself to ignore his enemy and proceed to the chair in the center of the room. He sat, managing not to flinch when the magical chains wrapped around his arms, binding him to the chair.
"Lucius Gaius Alexander Malfoy," Scrimgeour intoned. "You have pled guilty to the charge of attempted theft of Ministry property, use of all three Unforgivable Curses, and of being a Death Eater and a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The normal sentence for those crimes would be either permanent Obliviation or life imprisonment in Azkaban. In light of the valuable information that you have provided, your sentence has been reduced--"
"He's a murderer!" Arthur Weasley stood up, his face almost as red as his thinning hair. "You can't just let him go!" Lucius noted that the young wizard serving as court scribe looked up at Weasley for a moment, his expression furious.
"Mr. Weasley!" Scrimgeour shouted, "You have already registered your objections. The decision has been made; kindly control yourself or I shall have you removed from this court. Now, as I was saying...your sentence has been reduced to ten years of house arrest, five of which must be served without the use of magic. The Ministry of Magic will retain custody of your wand, which will be closely monitored. If you are found engaging in any illegal activities, you will be immediately returned to Azkaban for life. Is this clear?"
Lucius glanced over at Jan, who nodded slightly. "Quite clear," he told Scrimgeour. Before he could add anything, Jan interrupted him.
"Minister Scrimgeour, as you and I have discussed previously, releasing my client, even to his own home, would be putting him at risk of his life at the hands of his former associates."
"Yes, Mr. Mortensen, you did mention that. Unfortunately, the only other solution would be have your client remain in Azkaban for the duration of...current hostilities." Lucius noticed Weasley's look of satisfaction at Scrimgeour's words, but he wasn't terribly worried. He knew Mortensen well enough by now to feel certain that his advocate had a trump card up his sleeve.
Jan smiled. "There is another solution, Minister...if we might borrow an idea from Muggle law enforcement, where a criminal who has agreed to testify in exchange for a reduced sentence is relocated, somewhere secret where it would be difficult for anyone bent on revenge to find him."
"And I am assuming you have an idea for such a location?" Scrimgeour said drily.
"In fact, I do...if I may approach the bench?" Jan moved closer; Scrimgeour cast a localized silencing spell around them as they conferred. Lucius watched them, trying to focus on their conversation rather than on the glares he was still getting from Arthur Weasley. Finally Jan came back, a very satisfied smile on his face.
"Very well... In light of the valuable information that you have provided, your sentence has been reduced to ten years of house arrest, five of which must be served without the use of magic. For the remainder of the current conflict, your sentence will be served in an alternate location. Do you accept these terms?"
Lucius inclined his head slightly. "I do," he said, not bothering to hide his cynical amusement at the farce of a hearing. Scrimgeour gave Lucius a thin smile in response and waved his wand at the chair. The chains binding Lucius slid to the floor.
"In that case, this hearing is adjourned. Mr. Mortensen, if you will join me for a moment?"
"Of course. Lucius--" Jan took Lucius' arm and steered him to a small side room. "I'll be back in a moment; we just need to finalize one or two details."
Jan was as good as his word, and only a few minutes later he was back, pulling up a wooden chair across from Lucius. "All right; everything is settled. I'm going to take you to my brother's house in Los Angeles, which is where you'll be staying for the foreseeable future."
Lucius arched an eyebrow. "The forseeable future can be a long time, Mr. Mortensen," he pointed out.
Jan grimaced. "True, but as I think you've gathered by now, the present situation is unstable enough that something's going to have to give sooner rather than later. If we win, then we'll take you back to serve out the rest of your sentence in your own home. If we lose, it won't matter."
"Granted--and thank you for not attempting to paint the situation in overly-optimistic colors," Lucius said. "You have been direct with me throughout all of this and I appreciate that."
"For all that I obviously think you've made some poor choices, and that I don't agree with your politics," Jan replied, "you're an intelligent man, and I'm not going to waste my time and yours by treating you as anything else."
He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "There are some things you need to know about my brother. First of all, he has no magical abilities that we know of."
"He's a Squib, in other words," Lucius said, wondering why Jan was avoiding the word.
"Yes..." Jan chewed on his lower lip. "He's chosen to live as a Muggle, among Muggles, except when absolutely necessary. His only interaction with the wizarding world is through his immediate family. He's...well, he's Viggo, and he approaches life on his own terms." Jan smiled a little. "He's an actor, and he's quite famous among Muggles--not to mention making a good deal more money than I do. You'll be quite comfortable. More importantly, Muggle Los Angeles is probably the last place anyone would think to look for you."
Lucius nodded, keeping his face carefully blank. "Since I will not have my wand, I expect I will be able to fit in."
Jan laughed. "I wouldn't go that far--even in LA. But on the subject of your wand; the Ministry has it--"
"They didn't destroy it, then?" Lucius leaned forward. He's had the same wand since he was 11: elm, 12 inches, dragon heartstring core, "well-suited to the Dark Arts", Ollivander had said when he chose it.
"No, they didn't. Because of the unusual circumstances, I was able to persuade the Minister that the physical custody of your wand be left with Viggo. He can't use it, of course, but should we be extremely unlucky, he can give it to you if you need to defend yourself and him." Jan looked at Lucius. "Your wand will be spelled to alert the Ministry immediately if it is used. I'm sure you realize that using your wand in any but the direst circumstances will be considered a violation of the terms of your sentence."
"Of course." Lucius sighed. "Is there anything else?"
"Just one thing: given that you are a powerful enough wizard to be able to perform wandless magic, the Ministry has insisted on using the spells that will effectively bind your magical abilities to your wand."
Lucius frowned. "I didn't know those spells actually worked--and I would have thought they'd be considered Dark."
"Well...yes." Jan looked a little uncomfortable. "Yes to both, but it was the condition for allowing Viggo to have your wand, so..." He shrugged. "I've been assured that while it will be uncomfortable at first, it shouldn't feel much different from being under the wards at Azkaban for an extended period of time."
"And in any event, I have little choice, do I?" Lucius smiled, not bothering to hide his bitterness.
"No, Mr. Malfoy, you don't." Jan stood, and held out his hand. "With the time difference, Viggo should be awake by now, so we can get you there and get you settled. It's not ideal, but it's what we have now, and it's better than Azkaban."
Lucius reached out and took Jan's hand. "Most things are."