LIfe in an Alien Land 3: Minor Household Gods

Sorry for the long delay. I have been battling a kidney infection and an injured back for the last three weeks. Please make allowances for my body which seems to be falling apart at the moment.

This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Thanks J!

Chapter 2

Dreams

Severus entered the confines of Lucius' Ministry office, his dark presence almost unwelcome as he assumed his seat. It was a changed Severus that Lucius had come to know over the last few years of intrigue, torture, and mistrust. Their relationship had never been an easy one, but the time under the Dark Lord and Bellatrix's erratic rule had strained their friendship to near breaking. Lucius felt as if he had failed everyone, but Severus above all others. He felt the once unfamiliar twinge of guilt settling on him as Severus watched him, his dark gaze juddering from Lucius to the charmed wall behind him and back again. It was too close to the full moon for Severus to contain his energy. Lucius acknowledged Severus with a quick nod, and then turned his attention once again to the ledger and the stack of neatly printed memorandums that stank of charcoal and petrol. All of the offending missives required answering and in the same manner in which they had arrived, neatly typed and non-magically copied. Fortunately, Lucius had a Muggle aide-de-camp awaiting his instructions, otherwise he would have just Incendio'ed the lot and been done with it.

Severus was working under similar constraints with the newly re-opened Hogwarts, and that was, Lucius supposed, the reason his old friend was within the walls of this office. The Muggle government had imposed certain conditions that had to be met to open the school, one of them being a full-time Muggle staff member who would teach much more than Muggle studies. Severus had owled Lucius some days before about the professor in question. The man was not getting on well with the rest of the staff, constantly haranguing the other teachers about the empirical method or some such rot, and making an utter nuisance of himself in the process.

Morgana's frigid tits, Lucius hated working with Muggles!

Severus said, to the top of Lucius' head, "I don't have all day, Lucius. If you can draw yourself away from your fascinating stack of malodorous correspondence for a moment, I will be able to leave all the sooner. Ginevra has accepted an invitation to dinner for the two of us for this evening."

By the way Severus' face twisted at the pronouncement, Lucius could tell the evening would be spent at the Weasley hovel, and much of that time would be frittered away discussing the latest Weasley failure in the person of one Ronald Bilius Weasley.

"My condolences, Severus," Lucius answered with a small smirk. "I suppose I can take a break from all this busy work to hear your latest on the unfathomable Professor Wrenn and his scientific stringency."

"Quite wrong, Lucius." Severus' expression became still as he contemplated his next words. "I came here to speak with you about the funding for the housing of the lycanthropic and vampiric students this year. The Shrieking Shack will do for the werewolves since we will only need it once a month. Hagrid has outfitted it with cages, and Miss Granger and I have warded it against escape, but the two vampires admitted will need housing in the dungeons, for which we need funds, and approval for adjunct staff to accommodate their hours."

Lucius sighed and rubbed his temple absently with his thumb. "I see no reason for the vampires to be admitted into the school proper. They have their own governing body Send them to Sanguini and let him deal with them."

"You know that the vampire covens left England not long after Greyback fell, Lucius," Severus answered, only mild irritation jarring his mellifluous tone. "The two vampiric families remaining have Muggleborn children and were also never members of the coven proper, since they were turned by that rogue a few years before the Dark...He... Voldemort was resurrected. Their children, though not fully infected yet, do need special consideration, especially since the Muggle government considers their condition a disability rather than a curse. It falls onto us to deal with it. You know this, Lucius."

Lucius waved his hand in dismissal, attempting to silence Severus so that the incipient headache he had been nursing all morning would not blossom. to full blown pain They had both had this conversation before. Lucius had a lifetime of bigotry to overcome, and struggled with it daily. He had conditionally accepted werewolves, the half-giant, Hagrid, and even the suspected half goblin status of several notable personages, the most visible being Filius Flitwick. He drew the line at being forced to accept the presence of blood-sucking parasites in a school crowded with innocent children, no matter what the benighted Muggle government considered about their condition. It was closely akin to encouraging the breeding of fleas on prized hounds. "I shall contact the French, German, Italian, and Belgian Ministries and see if they can locate the coven that fled England. I will make sure that Sanguini takes care of his kind. They are not strictly wizards, after all."

Severus steepled his fingers in front of his face as he propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as he did, letting his lank hair frame his scowling visage. "Do that, Lucius. You and I both know how well Sanguini takes ultimatums. Until then, I shall ready the dungeons and hire the staff for our newest students and send the Ministry the bill."

With that pronouncement, Severus bade Lucius goodbye with a swift nod and then swept from the room in all his robe-billowing glory. A startled yelp sounded from the waiting area, where Lucius' aide-de-camp made his office. In Lucius' opinion, the young Muggle was just too easily surprised for the position he held.

&*&*&

Tonks joined Lucius for lunch in his office most days. She did so to escape the Muggle detective, Nick Angel, who she was chained to as a partner. It wasn't that she hated the bloke. Angel was all right, if a little too by the book. He just failed to understand much of what went on around him. She couldn't blame him for that either. He had been programmed from early on to accept only what he could experience with his Muggle-bound senses. Angel thought all magic was a trick or a threat, and not necessarily in that order. Tonks knew a little of what had happened to him during the dark days of Voldemort's reign. He had lost a sister to the werewolves and a girlfriend to Death Eaters. Those two events were what made Angel ideal, in the Muggle-friendly Ministry, to work within the framework of the Auror's department.

It also made him a liability to Tonks. She was married to the Head Warlock, as Angel put it, and there had been some dark days between her and the man she was forced to trust with her life before they had come to an understanding about where her own allegiance lay. It didn't help matters any that Lucius remained aloof on the few occasions that she and Angel had to meet with him. Tonks knew it was just her husband's patrician ways, but Angel took it as further proof of his unchanged dark sympathies.

Tonks entered Lucius' office that afternoon still stinking of fish guts and gunpowder, even with the copious amounts of freshening charms, soap, and cologne she had applied to her Auror's robes and skin. She was still smarting from Angel's fishwife comments as she left the office in search of Lucius. He could be such a git.

As Tonks looked at the white crown of her husband's head she wasn't sure which odious male she was bestowing githood on.

Lucius, apparently smelling her, looked up sharply, an expression of disgust passing over his features before the muscles in his face smoothed to his typical icy reserve. He stood and bowed slightly, greeting her with a small kiss above her cheek as he seated her at the table across from the Floo, which he had placed there for her daily nosh with him.

He said in his chilly tones, "Darling, how nice to see you. I was afraid that you mightn't have a break from your duties today."

She hated the falsely sweet endearment coming from his mouth and almost said something before she swallowed the words. It wasn't worth the row they would have if she said anything. She flopped back in her chair, legs splayed before her, skirt riding up. Lucius' eyes followed the line of her legs as he sat. "I understand that you did not catch the Muggle drug smugglers you were investigating?"

He turned to the Floo and threw some powder into it followed by a note. In moments, Tonks' usual luncheon fare arrived, along with tea for Lucius. Tonks bit into her sandwich and said around the bread, ""O, 'ay 'gah ah-oohway."

She knew he hated it when she displayed her disregard for manners and was gratified to see a twitch starting under her glacial husband's eye. He drew a breath, his nostrils flaring and his lips whitening, before he said as calmly as he could, "I take it, around that gross display of semi-masticated food, that you wished to convey that the perpetrators escaped?"

Tonks swallowed audibly and wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers, attempting not to laugh outright at Lucius' obvious distaste at the gesture. He pushed a pristine white linen serviette towards her and she took it, shaking it out to place on her lap as she replied, "Yeah. We have to insert another operative into the organisation so we can get 'em. It's too bad Snape's a werewolf. He would have been perfect, what with his qualifications and all."

Lucius poured himself tea as he questioned Tonks with a raised brow. "And your perfume of offal? How did you acquire that, Darling?"

Tonks answered, "Angel and me were running after two of them when I slipped off the dock. I landed on a boat where they had been gutting fish." Tonks took a smaller bite and chewed before adding as offhandedly as possible, "Oh, and the perps fired on us with their guns."

At those words, Lucius jerked forward, propelling her up with him. He pulled her to him over her protest. He laid his hand on the back of her neck before asking, "Were you hit by the bullets? Are you quite well?"

She sighed as he slid his hand down her neck to her back. "Luce, if I had been hit, I wouldn't be here. I'd be in hospital."

She stifled the bubble of contentment that she felt welling up in her as he ran his hands over her body to ensure she told the truth. His motion became languorous the lower he delved, until his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, hooking under the hem and pushing her legs apart with his thumbs. With a hitch of her breath Tonks looked at her husband. His eyes had gone from flint to storm grey and his expression was both fierce and joyful. With little adjustment, she fitted her body to his and sighed his name, "Lucius..."

He kissed her, his lips soft, not seeking dominion over her, the action merely a shy exploration. It was the first time he had initiated any sort of intimacy with her outside the bedroom. She felt the heat pooling in her belly as she succumbed to his kiss while deepening it. He pulled away from her, looking at her face as if he were trying to divine her mood. Tonks returned his gaze breathlessly. The clock on the mantle of the Floo chimed once and Lucius righted her skirt, rucked up during his exploration of her. With a rueful, almost charming smile, he said, "I am sorry, Darling, I have a meeting to attend. Shall we continue this later?"

"Yeah,' Tonks answered with more than a little quiver to her words. "You go on. I'll just eat and let myself out."

Lucius straightened his clothes, adjusting his robes so that it was not obvious that he was aroused, and bowed to her before he left. Tonks ate the rest of her sandwich as she prowled around the room, searching for something to read. She sat in Lucius' chair, rocking it back and forth, looking over the stacks of papers he had to go through. Her eye was caught by a folded piece of parchment that stuck out of the bottom of the stack. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The writing on the parchment was archaic, with all sorts of squiggles and dashes, and was hard to decipher because the letter 's" looked like 'f'.

Malfoy,

It seems that whilst we have many problems in common, what with our changed status in the new world accidentally engineered by your former master, we still apparently speak separate languages. I will not bargain with anyone but the one foretold, on this or any issue concerning our motherland.

The matter of which we spoke of has been left unresolved at this date, but as I am finding it less than convenient to deal with the minor functionary you have allowed to negotiate in your stead, I fear the issue may change for worse, at least in your limited sight. As leader of the expatriate English Coven I demand satisfaction before I release the problem from my care. You are well aware of what I desire, and I expect you to provide it by the end of the year. None other will do. The person in question has been the subject of several prophetic dreams in our tribe. As I am sure you are aware, we do not take these dreams lightly, given that we are creatures who have been denied Morpheus' gift to his lesser creatures. The subject of these visions must be delivered by Janus' day of doorways, or else the remaining hostage will not go untouched.

Yours,

Giuseppe Sanguini

Tonks refolded the parchment and put it back in the envelope. She would find out why her husband was in negotiations with the fled vampire coven before she confronted him with it. She suspected it had something to do with her son, and if he was keeping it from her she would know why.

&*&*&

Ron shuffled through his sodden days working for Fred at the shop. The younger Weasley took time out of his busy schedule to get enough alcohol in his system so that he wasn't trembling and nauseous. He had discovered vodka during one of his outings in the Muggle meat markets, and he drank it during the day because it didn't have the distinctive odour that firewhisky had.

He had just nipped out to the back, ostensibly to fetch some more of the Puking Pastilles, but really to take another swig of the vodka that he had stashed there the day before. He unscrewed the lid and took a sip, ignoring the burn as he swallowed. When the fire hit his gut, he doubled over as pain lanced through his belly. He rubbed the affected area with his fist until the sharp pain subsided to a dull burn. It was another hitch in a long line of problems he had experienced since losing Hermione. He knew he should probably quit drinking so much, but if he did, he'd have to admit he had a problem. He wasn't in the mood for that right now, especially since he had started dreaming of the Dark.

He had been dreaming for months about a child with changeable hair and features, and it niggled at his memory. Mostly the dreams were flashes of scenes, with no context, no story. Sometimes he saw others in the dreams, but they were only faces with no real relation to the child. The dreams were nothing to bother over. It was only when Ron had seen the blond man that things became weird.

The first time had been the day after he had beaten that bloke so badly, the last time that Tonks had fetched him from jail. After his bout of guilty cleaning, Ron had fallen into a restless, half-sober sleep, his mind spinning with all the things that were wrong with him. The images began, disjointed as they always were, until the child spoke in a halting lisp to the blond man, his words sounding foreign to Ron. The man gave a low answer in the same language as he peered sharply at the child, and Ron felt a thrill of something, not quite recognition, but familiarity. The man left the child's vision and Ron had woken more shaken by the dream than he should have been. From that time he had dreamt less of the child and more of the man, who showed Ron things that should have made his skin crawl but instead fired his blood. They were Dark things, and forbidden, laced with a sexual, taboo-like undertone. Ron knew he should seek help, but couldn't. It was as if the man held him in thrall by speaking to the darkness in Ron's tainted soul. Ron both feared and sought sleep in equal measure.

The pain subsided in Ron's gut, only to return again as he vomited the contents of his stomach behind the shop's rubbish bins. He was unsurprised to see blood in the offering. That was another thing that was happening with alarming frequency. Ron rifled through his pockets for the Muggle digestive remedy he had taken to eating. They were mint flavoured and chalky. He chewed a few before casting a cleansing charm on the pavement and returning to work. Dreams, ulcers, and blood or no, Fred would have Ron's head if he neglected the customers for too long.


Nick Angel is patterned after Simon Pegg's Nicholas Angel from the movie Hot Fuzz. If you haven't seen it and need a good belly-laugh, check it out. I really wanted to use Shaun from Shaun of the Dead, but he didn't have a last name.


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