With Good Intentions

“With all due respect, you’re insane.”

“Only when bedded with you, little minx.”

Plan “B” of the revolution strategy sported success odds little better than Plan “A”.

“If you witches will give your poor, put-upon husband a modicum of silence, I will explain. Over the last several days I’ve been in correspondence with a number of… Shall we call them ‘sympathizers’?”

“Whatever it takes to speed you along, husband. I’m losing the battle with my stomach.”

“Are you quite certain —”

“Yes, Lucius, I make sure of that myself.”

“The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone…”

“You’ve been at my Buechner. You do recall he’s a muggle?”

“A group my plan exploits mercilessly — to their ultimate benefit, my dears — and all the more reason our adversaries will be unable to thwart us.”

“That’s quite a leap of non-existent logic. Care to elaborate on why you’re so smugly confident in your strategy?”

That Slytherin head of his held more than just a library of seduction techniques. Controlling the wizarding world without ever holding political office exposed skills in subterfuge, subtlety, manipulation and ruthlessness Hermione admired more and more as he spoke.

“Molly Weasley crossed a line and I intend to force her to stay there. So long as her attacks only damaged me — the handsome and virile picture of a retired Death Eater —”

Scoffing exhalations put some of the aristocrat’s ego back in its place.

“— we had little chance to win. Molly, to my great delight, has managed to offend two constituencies that will pursue her downfall like a seeker chasing a snitch. They will BEG for a savior able to defeat and punish her. I offer myself for that position..”

The silence broke, first, when Hermione sprinted once more to ensure she’d have no vomit to clean from their pristine carpet. Quietude changed once more on the air of a single voice.

“I’ve placed a silencing charm on the room and instructed Winky to spike Hermione’s pumpkin juice with a sleeping potion. We know each other too well for me to doubt that confidence you’re shrouded in. Tell me.”

And for the next two hours he did so. It was brilliant and daring and so incredibly dangerous and damaging Narcissa forced herself to act as his sounding board.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Lucius?”

“She deserves success, Cissa, after all she’s sacrificed for me.”

“I cast the spell while she reclined on the sofa; she isn’t with child.”

Sadness shaped the sympathy in her eyes as he gazed at her. She’d always tracked his thoughts and schemes with just a few hints.

“She’ll need to be.”