Prisoners of Love - A Mystery - COMPLETE

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Updated 10-10-07


Many thanks for all your reviews. Rose bouquets to each of you for all your support. A few comments have been put forward and need replies:


Kaley Thank you for the heads up on the phrase 'pot roast'. I did think twice about it, but I have no way to knowing what crosses cultures and what doesn't. I changed the phrase to 'roast beef'. I hope that's more in line.


utopia Thank you for the long reviews. I'm intrigued you can analyze in such detail. And if you keep putting clues together about the villains, my mystery will go up in smoke. The prison wards are so strong, Lucius wouldn't and didn't get far even outside his cell. The guards are large size more for heavy-duty chores and shoving recalcitrant prisoners around. Help - what does OTT stand for? The Hawaiian shirt was merely used for an analogy and has no other place in this fiction. In my other story "A New Order of Wizards" Lucius has bony feet. I hope that helps keep him from 100% perfection. And I see tawny as a nice natural golden ivory color, his own skin hue untouched by the sun.


Shy Diva Wow. A simple truth that even I somehow hadn't entirely put together. "...you simply adore Lucius..." I do. I find the character so complex he absolutely fascinates me. Amazing!!(LaBib sits dumbfounded as the lightbulb goes on over her head.)


Oh dear, pumkin You're going to be crazy again in this chapter. Please remember Hermione is pregnant and moods come with the territory. Is that okay?

Lucius begins his investigation...


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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Scrimgeour

Next morning Lucius tried his hand at fried eggs which they both allowed could have been a little less fried. Lucius hadn’t liked the egg whites running all over and had spent too much time trying to corral the escapees instead of turning them. He felt he had acquitted himself well on the tea, though, making it and setting a cup on the table for Hermione who had arisen from bed with what alacrity she could muster in her condition when she heard him puttering around in the kitchen. She still had grave reservations about him being let loose to possibly wreak havoc in such dangerous territory, although she gave him high marks for trying.

Lucius’ inbred desire to dominate whatever environment he was in was helping him survive this new, mysterious Muggle terrain and even conquer a few bits and pieces. His tea was actually quite good.

After their slightly crunchy breakfast the blond wizard announced he had to go to the magic world for the day. He was somewhat concerned that Hermione didn’t blink so much as an eyelash at his announced absence, but he had several responsibilities to see to and he didn’t want to put them off any more.

His first appointment was with several Pureblood businessmen to forge a deal for some venture capital and the agreement was quickly concluded. Several of his business colleagues, including three Magic Council members – portly blowhard Sherwood, mummy’s boy Hardcastle, and cheapskate Appledore - hadn’t liked the division of the agreement very much. That suited Lucius very well as he had a strong suspicion none of them had lobbied vociferously from the dais on his behalf at his appeal judging from the sour looks they’d all had when he entered the conference room.

Finishing the agreement so expeditiously left Lucius with some time to pursue something more important and more personal. He arrived at the Ministry, striding into the Minister’s office without an appointment, but confident that the man would see him without delay. He was justified in his assessment because the secretary, after checking, told Lucius to go right in.

Lucius entered the spartan surroundings of the current Minister’s office, disdainfully recognizing that Scrimgeour had no taste for the finer elements of life, but he wasn’t there to care about that. Obviously, if any blackmarket operations were going on using government supplies, the profits weren’t going through this office. Lucius eyed the dour Minister, offering a handshake, which the man accepted and then sat in one of the cracked leather chairs in front of the Minister’s desk, rearranging his heavy robes to avoid possible snags.

Scrimgeour sat down and steepled his fingers in front of him on the scarred surface of his ancient desk. Lucius wondered if the man had gotten the pitiful piece at the annual Hogwarts Auld Furniture Faire where desks and chairs too decrepit to further withstand boisterous children were sold to make the school a bit of money while keeping the attics freed up. The powerful wizard held back a snort of contempt at the parsimonious decor. Fudge had certainly done a better job of decorating the Minister’s office while he served there.

Unaware of or perhaps indifferent to his visitor’s evaluation of his stark environment, Scrimgeour opened the conversation, “I understand congratulations are in order for your marriage to Hermione Granger. Please give her my best wishes.” He nodded once at Lucius’ ironic thanks, then asked, “And to what do I owe this unexpected visit, Lucius?”

“Unexpected, Rufus? Oh, I hardly think so. I’m sent to Azkaban on your trumped up charge and you think you’ll never see me again?” Lucius smiled at the Minister, but his eyes were glacial, and the room’s social temperature dropped significantly.

Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair at his ease, a wintry smile of his own sliding into place on his craggy face. “I’m rather amazed that you would come here, yes. But remorse and repentance were never your fortes. Did you think I wouldn’t act after what you tried to do?”

Lucius leaned forward attentively, his icy eyes suddenly wholly centered on the official, “What exactly did I try to do, Rufus?”

“You seem to think I’m an idiot. Your plan wasn’t even subtle. Did you think I wouldn’t find out you were adding more moles in my departments while ostensibly rooting out the old Death Eater stooges?” Now Lucius’ eyes gleamed silver, making the Minister more alert to the blond wizard’s reaction. “What?” asked Scrimgeour, “Are you going to deny it now?”

Lucius smiled more fully and some of the antagonism disappeared from his face, leaving Scrimgeour at a loss in understanding his ‘guest’. “Ah,” Lucius relaxed back into his uncomfortable seat, “I believe I’m seeing a bit of light on this conundrum of mine.” He crossed one leg over the other, looking totally at ease when he should have been looking hunted. “Do you remember just how you discovered my ‘perfidy’? How was it brought to your attention?”

“You want me to tell you how your scheme was uncovered so you can seek revenge on honest employees?” Rufus gazed at the dark wizard in obvious irritation and some honest confusion. This wasn’t a normal situation at all. Malfoy shouldn’t be attracting attention to his failed plotting. The word ‘subtle’ flowed back into the Minister’s mind from his previous comment and he cocked his head at his visitor. “You know something I do not, I see.”

Lucius merely nodded. The Minister was miserable to work with - he was just as cagey as Lucius, making the blond wizard’s life more difficult, even if he got a certain pleasure from trying to outwit the old fox. But this time, yes, he had an advantage. He thought.

Scrimgeour’s face cleared. “Subtle! The Malfoy hallmark. This new mole plot wasn’t subtle at all. It was clumsy and obvious even to a child. Was it all a set up, Lucius? Is that what you know that I don’t? I did wonder a bit at the time, but -”

“Yes, yes,” Lucius said impatiently, “You wanted me gone and this was an impetus to finagle my old sentence into a new one. You must have felt a sublimely righteous justification hounding me back into prison.” Lucius couldn’t help the small sneer from lifting his lip briefly, “I had removed all the old Death Eater moles for you and was then stabbed in the back by you. At first I merely thought it was a trick worthy of myself. But then I started to wonder. Pardon me, but you were never quite so devious before.”

Scrimgeour ignored both the backhanded approbation and the slur, “You were subverting my administration for your own personal gain. Of course I removed you. You’d have done the same to me, were the positions reversed.” Scrimgeour added, “I saw you as a threat to the magic community.

Lucius delivered a surprise twist, “So I’m sent to prison again, but now your life is possibly in danger from double-crossing me. What would keep me from thinking about removing you in return? My incarceration in that dismal dungheap wouldn’t have made an iota of difference to any revenge I wanted carried out.” Lucius derived some enjoyment out of watching Scrimgeour put the pierces together and suddenly pale.

They weren’t even close to friends, but there was a grudging respect between them and Scrimgeour wisely understood that Lucius could have had him killed and had not.

“If not you, then who?” Scrimgeour asked, still not entirely convinced that Lucius hadn’t been at fault, but reluctantly realizing that the blond wizard would have done a much more careful job of setting spies in his organization. This botched attempt would make the haughty and condescending man in front of him cringe to be thought so incompetent. An ironic smile escaped.

“In this case, the most important question first, I think, is HOW?” Lucius replied. “So I ask again, how did you discover these new moles? And how did you know for certain I was responsible?” Lucius figured if they knew how, that would lead them to who and ultimately why. He also thought his problems might have something to do with his wife’s being framed – it was odd to have so much stealthy activity going on in such a narrow amount of time at the Ministry. Too odd. Two people deliberately and consummately framed within the year. Yes, something was definitely not right at the Ministry. Lucius gave Scrimgeour the courtesy of exonerating him from whatever stealthy enterprise was being hatched.

Scrimgeour brought out the file on the moles and incriminating documents pointing to Malfoy. Lucius hadn’t seen them before, and hadn’t understood that his being targeted for Azkaban again was for a crime he hadn’t even committed this time. Now THAT is irony, Lucius ruefully acknowledged, if only to himself. This file of information must have been an added reason why Hermione and his solicitor had been successful in getting him out of prison. The secret evidence had been so flimsy, it couldn’t have stood up to the added scrutiny of the Appeal.

Lucius and Rufus went into conference asking the secretary to turn away all visitors. Lucius also requested that the secretary not divulge his presence if anyone asked who was in with the Minister or if Malfoy had been to see Scrimgeour. It wasn’t smart to advertise that the two of them had met if there was anyone observing the Minister’s movements and appointments. Lucius’ name wasn’t in the appointment roster, so no one could check that.

After two hours of poring over the papers, they only had a glimmer of something not adding up. A few names were written down as people to interview more thoroughly about their testimonies, but neither Scrimgeour nor Lucius wanted to alert any criminals to their investigation. Lucius left the Ministry through the private floo in the Minister’s office and stepped out into his own library on his estate. He was meeting with a construction company in a short while and asked the elves to prepare a small lunch, which he ate while mentally going over what he’d discovered at the Ministry. He had an additional piece of the puzzle he hadn’t yet offered to the Minister - he was now fairly sure that his wife’s problem was connected to his frame-up.



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“You say Malfoy was sighted in the Ministry today? Do you know where he went? Was he anywhere near Scrimgeour’s office?” asked the second voice.

“I didn’t want to walk up to his secretary and appear nosy, but I got a look at his appointment book and Malfoy’s name wasn’t in it for today.”

“Hmmmm. So we can’t know for sure what Malfoy was doing there. I don’t like it. Why is Malfoy there at all? He should shun that place, not run tame in the Ministry halls. Can you chat up the secretary and doublecheck? I have to get back. A new shipment is due and I have to ‘apportion’ it.

Both villains smiled and parted ways.

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After his spartan lunch, Lucius met with a contractor for a special project he had in mind for his mansion. Three hours of lengthy negotiations later, Lucius shook hands with the contractor, feeling confident about that company’s work, and apparated back across many miles to his small corner of the Muggle world, immediately calling out for his wife.

“I’m in the dining room,” Hermione answered, hearing her name being bellowed from the front hall. She ironically mused that Lucius must be adapting to her tiny home, because it was unlikely that he would bellow out the name of anyone when he arrived at the front door of his own home, which she had heard Draco once brag covered over an acre.

Lucius stalked down the hall and into the small dining room where he stopped dead and looked around, amazed at what he saw.

“Ah, you’re home just in time,” the little witch said with a relieved smile, “I’m collating all the research I did to get you out of Azkaban. You can let me know exactly how you would like me to organize it for your Malfoy archives. I imagine this will be added to the illustrious history of your family’s fame and fortunes for future generations to consult, whether from a historical context or because they need a pass out of prison themselves.” Hermione quizzically eyed her husband who was looking openmouthed at the innumerable parchments flowing over the dining room table and onto the floor.

“It took all this to get me out of Azkaban? What did you do, rob the Ministry archives? Merlin’s balls, all put together this information far exceeds the length of “Hogwarts, a History”, that dusty old book you love so much. An incredibly boring book, by the way.” Lucius stepped into the room and began lifting and reading some of the parchments, many of which were written in Hermione’s flowing hand.

It was Hermione’s turn to stare openmouthed, “You have really READ that book?” Lucius’ stock shot up a thousandfold at that piece of news. Why hadn’t he mentioned that when she’d gone on and on in their prison cell about various pieces of fascinating trivia from her favorite treatise? Had he been silently laughing at her or had he just been kind about listening to her ramble on about something she obviously adored? Hermione relaxed – neither, probably. It was more likely he hadn’t remembered a thing from the book and her little dissertations were new to him. She didn’t really think he would have been that kind to her – unless he was angling to get in her striped britches. She hid a small smile – he’d always been angling to get in her britches, when she wasn’t angling to get in his.

“Of course I read it,” Lucius said absently. “I didn’t hang around with companions who never wanted to read anything more demanding than the “Quidditch Field Handbook”. Lucius didn’t even look up as he read another densely written parchment. After a few silent minutes as Lucius perused parchment after parchment he asked, “Hermione, I didn’t know you had put this amount of effort into my defense. Did you and the solicitor actually need all this research?”

“It all helped certainly, to solidly build the appeal. These parchments were the ammunition that shot down all the objections put forward by the various outspoken opponents on the Magic Council and - as you may surmise - no one up on that dais was actually rooting for you to be released.” Hermione shrugged her shoulders at that unpleasant fact.

When Lucius looked like he was waiting for more information on the appeal, she added, gesturing at the parchments, “The weight of these precedents and old tribunals was so overwhelming to the Council that I think they just finally gave up the argument to be able to go home to a very late dinner.” Hermione snickered at the remembrance.

“It took all day and into the evening presenting your case,” she said. “We gathered quite an audience as the case wore on. The spectator’s gallery was full to bursting. I think Severus’ added testimony on your ‘mole’ investigation in the Ministry helped win over the spectators. His credit is tremendous as both Dumbledore’s successful spy and his successor. Hogwarts has come into an era of fiscal plentitude since he took over.” Hermione gazed in speculation at the sudden gleam in her husband’s eyes. “I didn’t know Snape knew so much about you, Lucius.” When she got no answer, she shrugged.

Hermione carefully didn’t mention that both Harry and Ginny had been in the crowd – Ginny for moral support and Harry because Ginny had dragged him there. Harry’s presence had added silent support to Lucius’ case, much to the young wizard’s disgust. However, he had kept any irritation off his face and sat learning more about the blond Death Eater than he really wanted to know.

The gallery in turn figured if Harry was backing up Hermione on Malfoy’s appeal with his presence in the Magic Council chamber, then Malfoy was probably innocent. Everyone knew Harry disliked Lucius Malfoy intensely.

The gallery as a group was obviously siding with Malfoy’s appeal through their support of Harry and they sent a loud message to the Magic Council who had reluctantly seen that keeping Malfoy in prison when he was innocent (of that charge, anyway) would stir up public opinion against the Ministry itself.

“Your solicitor is worth whatever you pay him,” she continued. “We weren’t finished arguing and rebutting until 10 o’clock that night. But when we finished, the solicitor and I felt we had an excellent chance, if the Council abided by magic law and not their own inclinations. They rather stomped out of the chambers like a line of pissed off penguins, saying we’d hear from them within the week.” Hermione grinned at the memory of their glum faces, “I guess they just stamped your release quickly, because you were on my work doorstep within two days.” At that sour memory, Hermione’s smile slipped and she went back to arranging the parchments.

“So you were actually present at the hearing? I didn’t know that. I guess my solicitor carefully didn’t mention it to me after I told him you and I were no longer an item. What reason did you give for being there? They didn’t know we were married.” Lucius’ stomach was doing backflips of embarrassment remembering his dismissal of her in that coffee bar. The parchment he was holding was crushed unnoticed in his fist briefly before being carefully restored to its smooth condition with Lucius’ wand and gently replaced on the table. It was getting more and more difficult to remember why he had felt so trapped by her.

“The solicitor merely told the Council I was working as his research assistant and keeping track of the numerous pieces of parchment for him as he presented the case. I think no one even gave me a second thought with my reputation as a bookworm. Not then. It’s probably different now that the word is out I’m your wife. I’ll bet that morsel is flying all through the government departments about now.”

Lucius smiled beguilingly at his pretty, rosy-cheeked wife and changed the subject. “What did you have for lunch?”

Hermione’s smile turned touchy as her unruly heartbeat escalated from the erotic effect of his smile. “I already have a mother, Lucius,” she shot a preemptive salvo, trying to lessen the effect of his magnetic masculinity on her feminine parts. His behavior was getting just too domestic for her comfort. She wasn’t ready for his ‘honey, I’m home’ attitude. He’d hurt her and it still rankled enough to make her resistant to his careless charm.

“You also have a husband who’s the father of that baby you’re carrying, so perhaps you can answer my perfectly ordinary question?” Lucius was surprised at his wife’s unexpectedly astringent reaction to his interest in her day and he gazed at her more closely.

“Maybe I should just write down everything I eat so you can cross check the meals by the hour,” Hermione sassed, suffering from another kind of hunger she didn’t want to recognize as she glowered at the male who could always make her wet just by walking into a room. When he rested his arctic gaze on her, she looked down at the parchments, evading her husband’s interested speculation.

“That would be helpful,” Lucius agreed, unperturbed, “especially if you are going to throw a tantrum every time I ask an innocent question.” He turned and left the dining room to put away the cape and cane he’d been too impatient to see his wife to remove before.

tbc...


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A few pieces of the puzzle have been added. Your reviews are always happily received. The link is down below. If you haven't ever reviewed anyone before, try me. I'm very uncritical. Cheers!
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